


The Strange and Crazy Life of the Watson-Holmes Family

by tinyginger



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Did I Mention Fluff, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay, Gay Parents, Happy, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, More Fluff, Mpreg, Parentlock, Past Character Death, Past Mary Morstan/John Watson, Past Sherlock/John/Mary, Polyamory, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson are Parents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-07-04 01:51:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15831309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyginger/pseuds/tinyginger
Summary: After Mary dies, John and Sherlock continue their family. They get married and raise Rosie. They are just getting used to being a family of three, now they are going to add another member.





	1. The Flu (and Other Stuff)

The week had been strange for the Watson-Holmes family. Rosie had come home with a fever one day, and the next both she and Sherlock were miserable. Neither John’s husband nor his daughter wanted to see any doctor other than John, and John didn’t expect them too. So for the week, he was their doctor, nurse, and caretaker. Rosie had taken to sleeping between Sherlock and John at night, though that was hardly new, Rosie often had nightmares and would crawl into bed with her fathers most nights. 

 

In the week Sherlock and Rosie had been sick, they had quickly run out of supplies needed for comfortable and practical living. Things such as toothpaste, toilet paper, tissues, and food. John had decided to go and grab a few things from the store while Rosie and Sherlock napped. He left a note for Sherlock and planned to be back within a half hour. 

 

While he was moving to the front of the store to pay his phone buzzed in his pocket. 

 

**Sherlock: Rosie wants juice.**

 

**Sherlock: also pick up a test.**

 

John was puzzled. He thought that maybe Sherlock’s fever had spiked and he was delusional. But before he could text Sherlock, his husband texted again. 

 

**Sherlock: Rosie also wants to watch the newest Avengers movie.**

 

John understood that was Sherlock telling him to buy the movie. He never could say no to Rosie, and often changed John’s mind when he told his daughter no. John was smiling to himself as he changed course and went to the movie section. 

 

**Sherlock: pregnancy test I mean.**

 

John stopped in the middle of the aisle. His heart sped up and skipped beats, his mind shut down, and his breathing quickened. 

 

“Sir. Are you alright?” A woman asked who had nearly ran into him when he stopped. 

 

John nodded and reread his texts. Obviously, it had to be a typo, Sherlock was probably texting while trying to pay attention to Rosie. 

 

**Sherlock: not a typo. Just a hunch.**

 

John scoffed. Then a smile broke out on his face. 

 

**Sherlock: 3-5**

 

**Sherlock: Rosie wants pasta for dinner.**

 

John snapped out of his thoughts and texted Sherlock back with shaky thumbs. 

 

**John: Ok. Juice, Avengers, 5 pregnancy tests, and pasta. Anything else?**

 

There was a longer pause than John had been expecting. It sparked a bit of worry in his mind, but he continued to shop. He let out a breath when his phone buzzed again. 

 

**Sherlock: Get Rosie a doll or stuffed animal.**

 

John raised an eyebrow but agreed. Sending an ‘ok’ before picketing his phone and getting everything on the list.

 

The ride home was torture. John’s leg was shaking, and his hands were sweating. He wasn’t exactly nervous to be a father, he already had Rosie, but that was different. At the time he was with Mary, and of course, Sherlock was there, but he didn’t carry Rosie. Then they lost Mary, John had become distant and depressed, taking Rosie and leaving Sherlock. Sherlock became depressed as well, blaming himself for the death of Mary. He was also being kept away from John and Rosie. In losing Mary, John had taken everything from Sherlock. 

 

To this day Sherlock still blames himself for Mary’s death, and John still blamed himself for Sherlock nearly killing himself. But they loved Rosie and they loved each other so they pushed the guilt aside. 

 

When John got home, he found Sherlock laying on the sofa, beside him was a waste bin, and laying on his chest sleeping was Rosie. He had a blanket over her and a washcloth on the back of her neck. Sherlock’s skin was a pale green, he was shaking a bit. He had one arm wrapped around Rosie, rubbing her back as she slept comfortably on his chest, and one arm covering his eyes. 

 

“Sherlock?” John whispered trying not to wake Rosie, or disturb Sherlock if he was asleep. 

 

“Her fever spiked.” Sherlock rasped out. “If it gets worse we need to take her to hospital.” 

 

Sherlock still had not uncovered his eyes, though he moved his hand up to the back of Rosie’s neck to feel how hot she was. His frown relaxed a bit then he moved his hand back down to her back and started to rub soft circles. 

 

“How are you?” John asked knowing Sherlock would be more focused on how Rosie was feeling than himself.” 

 

“Fine.” Sherlock dismissed as he took the washcloth from Rosie’s neck and held it out to John. “Exchange this for a colder one, will you?” 

 

“Yeah.” John nodded and walked to the kitchen. 

 

When he came back Sherlock had taken his arm from over his eyes and placed it on Rosie’s head. Sherlock was humming softly and playing with Rosie’s hair as she slept on his chest. This was surprisingly not a new sight for John. 

 

After he had moved back in with Sherlock, bringing Rosie with him, he would often find Sherlock laying on the sofa with Rosie on his chest. When it had first happened, Rosie wasn’t walking yet, and the closest thing she had come to saying a word was when she had gurgled something and it sounded remarkably like “day” or “gay” or “pay”, neither Sherlock nor John believed it to be a word, but Lestrade had insisted she said “gay”. 

 

John had been shocked when he found Sherlock laying on the sofa, with his daughter sleeping peacefully on his chest. It wasn’t every day you find Sherlock Holmes still, quiet, and content. He had been humming and rubbing the baby’s back trying to soothe her. Rosie had been fussy, too fussy for John to handle, and Sherlock often took the night shift stating “I’m an insomniac anyway, this will give me something to do”. John had agreed because he needed sleep, and Sherlock didn’t seem keen on sleeping. 

 

“Daddy?” Rosie looked up at Sherlock with wide eyes that reminded him so much of Mary. “Are you okay?” 

 

“Yes, darling.” Sherlock smiled at Rosie but moved his fingers to his lips. “I’m just not feeling good, sorry for waking you.” 

 

“It okay.” Rosie smiled. “Do I need get down?” 

 

“No, Rosie, I’m okay.” Sherlock smiled and rubbed her back. “Just sleep.” 

 

Rosie nodded and put her head back down on his chest. John watched as Sherlock took calculated breaths. His eyes closed tight and the hand not on Rosie’s back, clutching the sofa cushion. It made John’s heartache to watch Sherlock is what could only be described as distress. 

 

“Sherlock, are you okay?” John whispered once he thought Rosie was asleep again. “Are you in pain?” 

 

Sherlock shook his head then nodded. He turned his head and looked at John. There were unshed tears in his eyes, something John never enjoyed seeing. 

 

“She’s too warm John.” Sherlock said glancing to Rosie. “We need to- we should call an ambulance.” 

 

“Alright, let me take her temperature first, and yours, and then I will call an ambulance.” John said. “I don’t want to cause either of you distress if we don’t have to. So if I can fix something I will.” 

 

“Ice bath?” Sherlock asked. 

 

“If it comes down that yes.” John nodded. “Though if it would make you feel better I could turn the shower onto cold and hold her in there for a while. Just to cool her down.” 

 

“The blanket.” Sherlock told him. 

 

John pulled the blanket off Rosie and smiled at Sherlock before grabbing the thermometer. 

 

Rosie was warm, a little too warm, but not warm enough to call an ambulance. Sherlock was also warm, but not as warm as Rosie. 

 

“I thought- she was shivering, so the blanket.” Sherlock was nearly panting as he tried to justify the blanket to John. “She was crying because she was too cold.” 

 

“I know, it’s okay.” John said. “I’m going to go turn on the cold wanted. I want both you and her to get in.” 

 

“I’m fine.” Sherlock told him though they both knew he wasn’t. “Just fix her.” 

 

“Alright, I will.” John nodded and put his hand in Sherlock’s head. “But I’m also going to help you too.” 

 

John turned the shower onto the coldest it would go, got towels, and a change of close for both Rosie and Sherlock. He then stripped to his boxers and went out to find Sherlock. 

 

“Giver her to me, then strip to your pants.” John told Sherlock. “Don’t try to walk without me. I worried you’ll get dizzy and faint.” 

 

Sherlock nodded and started to undress. Once John had Rosie’s clothes off he carried her in one arm while supporting Sherlock with his other.

 

John had thought ahead and had laid out some blankets on the floor, he helped Sherlock sit on the lid of the toilet and laid Rosie down on the blankets for a minute. After settling Sherlock into the bath under the spray of water, John picked Rosie back up and handed her to Sherlock. Rosie sat with her face nuzzled into Sherlock’s neck. Though Sherlock was shaking he had his arms wrapped around her and was humming. John kneeled next to the bathtub and ran his fingers softly over Rosie’s back, then wiped a tear from Sherlock’s face. 

 

“Pregnant huh?” John smiled as he continued to rub his knuckles up and down Sherlock’s arm. 

 

Sherlock’s eyes were closed, and his head was resting back against the tub. He opened his eyes halfway and looked to John without moving his head. A soft smile appeared on his lips at John’s words. 

 

“If I have calculated correctly.” Sherlock whispered. “We both have the flu, but I have symptoms that Rosie does not.” 

 

“Are you in pain?” John asked. “Sometimes in men the… there is pain, because-” 

 

“A bit.” Sherlock nodded. “Thought it was my appendix.” 

 

“And?”

 

“It’s not.” Sherlock smile. “But just to be sure… you got the tests didn’t you?”

 

“Yes.” John nodded. “Five of them. All the same.” 

 

Sherlock nodded and closed his eyes again. “The nausea is worse today. Couldn’t ignore it.” 

 

“Oh…” 

 

“I’m fine John.” Sherlock said then looked over at his husband. “I’ve been suspecting for sometime this was the case. But then Rosie got sick.” 

 

“And you thought you had the same thing?” John asked. 

 

“I do have the same thing, but I am also pregnant.” Sherlock told him, then added. “Probably.” 

 

John nodded and they stayed there in silence for a while. Sherlock has started to shake more fiercely now, not only do to weakness but also front the cold. Though, no matter how many times John offered to switch places with him Sherlock refused. He could feel Rosie’s head against his neck and it was cooling down. He didn’t want to disturb her or disrupt the progress being made. 

 

“Alright, Sherlock, that enough.” John said as he turned off the water. “Your lips are turning blue.” 

 

“She’s cooler now.” Sherlock told John as he helped guide Rosie into John’s arms, making sure she was safe. “I on the other hand- I’m sweating…” 

 

“But you’re-”

 

“Yes, I know my teeth are chattering, but I am about to puke. So please… take her in the other room.” Sherlock told John as he started to get out of the bath. “Now John!” 

 

John did as he was told and took Rosie to her room. Once he had dressed her in a light t-shirt and pull-up he laid her down. She usually didn’t need a pull-up but with her as ill as she is, John thought it best… just in case. 

 

Once he had laid her down and made sure she was asleep, John headed back to the bathroom where he had left Sherlock. 

 

When John entered the bathroom his heart sunk. Sherlock was kneeling in front of the toilet, one arm around his too thin stomach, and the other holding onto the toilet. He was shaking, both from the cold and the toll vomiting was putting on his already weakened body. 

 

“Oh, Sherlock.” John sighed and knelt behind him. “How can I help you?” 

 

“Support.” Sherlock mumbled as his legs shook under him. 

 

John understood what he meant and moved so he could practically hold Sherlock up. 

 

“You’re okay, let it out.” John whispered. “Holding it in will only make you feel worse.” 

 

Sherlock nodded and gagged as a new wave of nausea hit. One of his hands found John’s arm and he held tight, tears pricking his eyes and sliding down his cheeks as he vomited. 

 

This lasted longer than John was comfortable with. Even if Sherlock was sick and pregnant he shouldn’t be throwing up this much. As it is his stomach was already empty before he started vomiting. 

 

“If you keep this up all the stomach acid will burn your esophagus.” John told him as he kissed Sherlock’s bare shoulder. 

 

“It is.” 

 

John sighed and started to rub his hand up and down Sherlock’s back. 

 

Sherlock had stopped getting anything up a while ago, now he was just dry heaving into the toilet. His throat was sore, his stomach ached with nausea and the muscles contracting in failed attempts to empty his stomach, his headache had turned into a full-blown migraine, and his whole body hurt. 

 

“John.” Sherlock choked as he moved from the toilet to John's arms, bursting his face in John’s chest. “It hurts.” 

 

John’s heart dropped at Sherlock’s words. It was hard watching Sherlock sick, in pain, and in distress. Sherlock usually tried to keep himself composed, at least until he was alone with John then he would let himself feel everything from emotions to physical pain. John felt honored Sherlock chose him to show his emotions and weakness to, but it hurt John to watch. 

 

“You’re going to be okay.” John told his husband as he kissed his head. 

 

“John…” Sherlock’s voice cracked as he clutched John’s shirt tighter. “I need to cry.” 

 

“Alright, let it out.” John told him as he wrapped his arms tighter around Sherlock. “Don’t hold back, I’m here.” 

 

It was a process getting Sherlock to open up. He had tried for so long to ignore his feelings, hide how he truly feels, to never experience “sentiment”, but Sherlock was passionate. He had more feeling than most people John knew, and his emotions were not always predictable. From getting closer to Sherlock’s family John had learned that Sherlock was a very sensitive child, but trauma in his past had made him cold. His coping method was to try and be like Mycroft. 

 

Now, so many years after John had met him, Sherlock was able to show more emotions and express those feelings to John. Only to John. 

 

John had worked hard with him, so had Mary, when she was around. They had brought him out of his mind and showed him what it was to love someone openly. They had loved Sherlock, and he had tried to love them, or rather express his love to them. After Rosie was born Sherlock let all his good and happy feelings be known to everyone, but only if the feelings were about Rosie, and sometimes Mary and John. When Mary had died Sherlock shut down. It was a setback in his progress but reconnecting with John and Rosie helped. 

 

Now, Sherlock could articulate his emotions and thoughts easier than in the past. He still had a hard time showing how he was feeling though, especially when he was overwhelmed, sad, or scared. He would often wait until he couldn’t take it anymore then crawl into John’s lap when they are alone and ask if he could cry. 

 

“John, I'd like to take the tests now.” Sherlock said as he pulled his face from John’s chest. 

 

John nodded and quickly wiped Sherlock’s face before they stood and John grabbed the tests. 

 

“Are you taking all five?” John asked as Sherlock started to open a box. 

 

“Yes.” Sherlock nodded. “I want to be sure.” 

 

When finished with the tests he lined them on the counter. John had started his phone timer and they waited. 

 

Sherlock quickly got impatience and turned to John who was standing against the wall watching him… and the timer. 

 

“I need something to settle my stomach.” Sherlock told John as he grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the bathroom. 

 

“Do you want some tea?” John asked. “Or some ginger ale?” 

 

“Yes, both.” Sherlock said as he sat on the counter. “Rosie thinks we’re superheroes.” 

 

“Oh?” John replied, knowing Sherlock wanted to think about something other than the tests in the bathroom. 

 

“She kept asking if we work for Shield.”

 

“And what did you tell her?” John asked as he handed Sherlock a glass of ginger ale. 

 

“I told her it’s a secret, and she seemed to assume I couldn’t tell her we are superheroes.” Sherlock explained. “I think we should let her believe we are superheroes and work for Shield. At her young age, it is easier for her to understand. She likes superhero movies, and she’s not scared of them. Of course, someday you or I will come home injured like we have in the past, and it will be good for her to think we are superhuman so she doesn’t get too worried. Also-”

 

“Sherlock.” John cut him off and pointed to the glass in Sherlock’s hand. “Drink.”

 

Sherlock did as he was told, then exchanged the empty glass for the cup of tea John was handing to him. 

 

“Do you-... are you okay with being a father again?” Sherlock asked, not looking up from his tea. “... with me?” 

 

John put his hand on Sherlock’s thy. “Nothing would make me happier.” 

 

This made Sherlock smile. The smile quickly turned to a frown when John’s phone rang out, alerting them they could o check the tests. 

 

“Ready?” John asked, holding his hand out to Sherlock. 

 

Sherlock nodded and took John’s hand. 

 

“They are all- John I’m pregnant!” Sherlock turned to look at John. 

 

John was choking back tears and he pulled Sherlock into a tight hug. Sherlock was already raddeling I’m about how it surprised him that he didn’t think of this earlier, and how it is so much easier to deduce something about anyone else but when it comes to himself it is more difficult, especially when he doesn’t know what he’s looking for. 

 

“Sherlock, shut up and kiss me.” John finally said cutting him off mid tangent. 


	2. Tea Makes Everything Better

After a wild night of taking care of a sick kid, a sick husband, and finding out he is going to be a father again, John slept longer and deeper than he had in a long time. Earlier, after he and Sherlock checked the pregnancy tests, They had celebrated. Sherlock was happier than John had seen him in a long time, and more clingy than he had ever been. Not that John was complaining, but it was out of character for Sherlock and he knew something was going on in that brilliant brain. 

 

It hadn’t taken long for Sherlock to leave the warmth and comfort of John’s arms. Sherlock didn’t go far, he simply paced around the flat, talking in fast half sentences. John could tell he was nervous, that had been apparent by the slight tremors in Sherlock’s usually steady hands. 

 

“Sherlock, calm down.” John said as he walked up to Sherlock and put his hands on the taller man’s shoulders. “Just, stop and talk to me.” 

 

Sherlock swayed a bit as he stared at John. His hands still trembled, and his eyes were wet with unshed tears. 

 

“I’d like to go to bed now.” Sherlock told him before pulling away ever so slightly. 

 

“Okay.” John nodded then pulled him into a kiss. “I’ll be up in a moment, I’m going to clean in in a bit.” 

 

Sherlock nodded and started to walk away then he froze. “Don’t-... don’t throw away those tests… please.” 

 

“I won’t.” John kept his voice soft as he watched the back of Sherlock’s head, his shoulders tense. “I’ll be fast.” 

 

Sherlock seemed to be content with the answer and walked away to their bedroom, stopping first, to check in Rosie. When he was satisfied with her safety Sherlock made his way to their bedroom. He had changed into the sleep clothes John had brought him after he had finished the unpleasant bout of puking, so he simply climbed into bed and pulled the covers over him. 

 

Sherlock wasn’t anywhere near sleeping when John came in, he carried a bin and placed it on Sherlock’s side. 

 

“A bin?” Sherlock questioned. 

 

“You are ill and pregnant.” John sighed. “The flu plus morning sickness is not a good combination.” 

 

“Ah.” Sherlock nodded. “John…” 

 

John hummed a reply as he undressed and got into bed. “Sherlock.” 

 

“Would you mind…” Sherlock stopped himself and let out a breath. “I would like to be spooned.” 

 

“Alright.” John nodded as he rolled onto his side and pulled Sherlock against him. “Is this okay?” 

 

Sherlock nodded and smiled when John’s hand found its way to Sherlock’s stomach. 

 

“Thank you.” John whispered before falling asleep. 

 

They both slept pretty well that night. Both exhausted from the week prior and the events of the evening. 

 

Sunlight was just starting to stream in through the windows when John woke up. He found himself still on his side, Sherlock in front of him, John’s hand was still on Sherlock’s flat stomach, but there was a little girl wedged between John’s chest and Sherlock’s back. Rosie had, at some point during the night, crawled into their bed and took her place between them. John couldn’t contain the smile when he saw her little fingers tangled in Sherlock’s black curls. 

 

“Good morning John.” Sherlock whispered. 

 

“How did you know?” 

 

“Your fingers went still, your hand had been roaming my stomach in your sleep.” Sherlock explained. “It was soothing.” 

 

“Oh.” John smiled and started to rub his fingers over the muscles of Sherlock’s stomach. “How are you feeling?” 

 

“Mmm… a bit nauseous, but not too bad.” Sherlock replied then sighed. “My chest is still tight from my illness and I cannot get a deep breath, nor can I breathe through my nose, and I have a terrible headache but pregnancy wise… I’m okay.” 

 

“I should take you to see a doctor, you’ve been ill for too long.” John said as he moved his hand under Sherlock’s bellybutton. 

 

“That’s close to where the baby is.” Sherlock told him. “Of course it’s not even the size of rice, but that is where the womb starts. It’s what causes the morning sickness, and why male pregnancy comes with so much pain at the beginning. The womb is growing, causing organs to move out of the way. In male cases, especially when someone’s body is like mine, the growth of the womb causes organs to bruise because if the rapid growth.” 

 

“My god.” John’s eyes were wide as he made his touch gentler on Sherlock’s stomach, for heat he would hurt him. “I’m so sorry Sherlock.” 

 

“It doesn’t hurt right now, it’s more of a dull ache, please continue with the pressure you were using before, it helped.” Sherlock told him. “Rosie is not feeling well again, she came in around three last night and asked if she could sleep with us. Said she had a nightmare, and she wasn’t feeling good. She’s had at least one nightmare since, but she didn’t wake up. I suggest we have a quiet day today, watch some shows, cuddle, and try to get Rosie’s flu under control.” 

 

“Good plan.” John smiled. 

 

And a quiet day they did have. Most of the day was spent on the Sofa. Rosie curled up between John and Sherlock. Every so often Sherlock was excuse himself and go to the bathroom, when he came out he always looked slightly paler and shaky. John knew this was morning sickness, he also knew Sherlock was trying to hide it from Rosie. 

 

“Shall we have some dinner?” John asked when the movie had finished. 

 

Rosie was sitting on his lap, and was feeling a lot better. Sherlock, on the other hand, was feeling worse. His “morning” sickness seemed to start mid day and was getting worse the longer he stayed awake. The thought of food made him want to vomit. 

 

“Yes!” Rosie cheered. “Pasta!” 

 

“Alright, pasta it is.” John smiled then looked to Sherlock and frowned. “Are you alright?” 

 

“Yes.” Sherlock nodded. “I am quiet sleepy though, I am going to go to bed early. Good night Rosie, John.” 

 

“Night night!” Rosie called as Sherlock walked down the hall. 

 

John made pasta, and ate with Rosie. After they ate he checked her fever and was relieved when it was almost back to normal. He set Rosie up at the table with a coloring book and some crayon and told her he would be back in a moment. 

 

When he walked into the bedroom his heart clenched. Sherlock was curled in in himself, holding his stomach, and whimpering softly. 

 

“Sherlock.” John whispered as he made his way over to the bed. “Let me help you.” 

 

“It hurts John.” Sherlock’s voice cracked as he squeezed his eye shut. “God it hurts so much.” 

 

“Hey, I’m going to help you.” John told him as he ran his fingers through Sherlock’s curls. “I’m going to get you a warm water bottle, that should help with the cramping.”

 

“Some water too… please.” Sherlock nearly begged. 

 

“Alright.” John nodded and walked to the kitchen. 

 

When he came back, Sherlock was in the same place he had left him. Still curled in on himself, still whimpering, still in so much pain. John made quick work of putting the heat low on Sherlock’s stomach, then pulling him against him. Sherlock grabbed John’s hand tight and nuzzled his face into John’s forearm. 

 

The whole time they laid there, John whispered soft encouragements into Sherlock’s ear. He honestly didn’t know what he was saying but he had to comfort Sherlock somehow. 

 

“John, will you rub my stomach?” Sherlock asked, his voice hoarse. “The muscles are sore from vomiting and are clenched because of the pain. It would help calm the pain and nausea.”

 

“Of course I will.” John hushed him as he moved his hand to wear the heat had been. 

 

John slipped his hand under Sherlock’s shirt and began massaging the tight, abused muscles that were under his belly button. It was a bit of a shock to John that not eight hours ago he had been doing this because it felt good to Sherlock, now he was doing this to try and relive Sherlock of pain. It had been so peaceful that morning. 

 

“Papa?” Rosie asked as she stood in their doorway. “Is Daddy okay?” 

 

“Daddy’s not feeling well sweetheart, so Papa’s trying to help him.” John replied, though he never stopped massaging Sherlock’s stomach. 

 

“What wrong?”

 

“Daddy’s tummy hurts.” John told her. 

 

“Oh no.” Rosie gasped. 

 

“I’m okay.” Sherlock spoke once he could trust his voice to be steady. “Don’t worry Rosie.” 

 

“But you hurt.” 

 

“No Rosie, I just don’t feel well.” Sherlock told her. “I’m still sick.” 

 

“Oh…” Rosie nodded. “Do you haves a tem-pert-at-yer?”

 

“I don’t know.” Sherlock croaked on a groan when John’s hand slowed down. 

 

“Sorry.” John whispered and started to massage again. 

 

“Rosie, sweetheart, why don’t you run down and ask Mrs. Hudson for some  juice.” John suggested to his daughter.

 

“Okay Papa.” Rosie then ran off down the hall. 

 

“I’m going to text Mrs. Hudson and ask her to keep Rosie occupied until you start feeling better.” John told Sherlock. “How are you feeling?” 

 

“Better when you massage.” Sherlock told him. “I looked up the pain, and it’s normal.” 

 

“How can this be normal?” 

 

“I am underweight as most people love to point out, because of this there is not a lot of wiggle room for my organs to move around. Some men experience internal bleeding because of the rapid growth of the womb. I do not think it has come to that, but I suspect it might.” Sherlock said. “As for your next question, I have had these cramps for a few weeks now, it’s not suddenly happening because we found out I am pregnant. That is why I thought it was my appendix, then I thought it was my kidneys, then I thought I had been poisoned, the Rosie got sick and I tried to ignore it. But as I was trying to figure out how to cope or get rid of the pain and vomiting, I found an article on pregnancy. So it had to be that.” 

 

“It had to be?” John questioned the tone in which Sherlock had said those words instead of what he had said. 

 

“After ruling out poison, appendix, and kidneys… the only two options left were pregnancy or cancer. Therefore I had you pick up pregnancy tests.” Sherlock said. “I refuse to have cancer.” 

 

“Oh…” John was stuck on cancer. 

 

Tears pricked his eyes as he held Sherlock closer and rub his hand over Sherlock’s stomach. 

 

“John, please don’t cry.” Sherlock said softly. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to upset you, I was just telling you the processes in which I found I was pregnant and how I found the articles. I don’t have cancer, I never had cancer, it wasn’t even a cancer scare. The symptoms simply mimicked stomach cancer, so I ruled it out.” 

 

“I know.” John nodded, a tear still falling down his cheek. “I just… god, I can’t lose you too Sherlock.” 

 

“You’re not losing me.” Sherlock told him as he pulled John into a hug. 

 

The position of the hug made John's hand move from Sherlock’s stomach, and even though it caused more pain, Sherlock kept his arms wrapped around John. They needed this, to just hold each other. 

 

“I love you, Sherlock.” John hiccuped. “You have no idea how much I love you.” 

 

“I am certain I love you just the same.” Sherlock smiled and pulled John into a kiss. 

 

John stayed with Sherlock until Sherlock’s stomach had settled enough for him to be able to get out of bed. It took a full day for Sherlock not to feel like his insides were on fire every time he rolled over or moved. The trips to the bathroom in that day were excruciating. The vomiting was more violent and painful than John could have imagined. Sherlock had cried more in that twenty-four hours than John had ever seen him cry. A couple times John thought this would kill Sherlock faster than cancer would. 

 

But by the next morning, Sherlock could get out of bed without his knees buckling due to pain. His stomach was still cramping, but not nearly as bad as before. He had a fever because of the illness and because of the pain, and he was a bit shaky because of lack of sleep, hydration, and food.

 

John watched as Sherlock made his way through the flat. Sherlock was slower than usual like he was worried if he moved too fast or too sudden the pain would come back. John also noticed how he kept one hand in his lower stomach, his palm pressed flat against his muscles. Sherlock held onto things, for support or to keep himself steady, John was unsure why this was occurring, though he suspected it was because of how weak Sherlock’s body was because of the pain he endured. 

 

“Daddy, are you okay?” Rosie asked as she watched Sherlock carefully lower himself onto his chair. 

 

“Yeah, I’m okay.” Sherlock nodded, his voice taking the tone he reserved for children, John, and Rosie. “I’m just sore.”

 

“Do you want some tea?” Rosie asked. “Mrs. Hudson teaches me how to make it.” 

 

“Taught.” Sherlock corrected. 

 

“Oh.” Rosie smiled. “Mrs. Hudson taught me how to make it.” 

 

“Did she? Well, I’d love a cuppa.” Sherlock smiled and watched as ran off to the kitchen. 

 

John smiled. Sherlock had taken a special interest in Rosie’s vocabulary. From the time she had mumbled her first word, Sherlock had been correcting her and showing her how to pronounce things. When correcting her, he was never condescending or rude he was simply being helpful. If Rosie used “is” instead of “are” Sherlock would simply and quietly correct her and she would restart the sentence. If Rosie was having trouble pronouncing a word Sherlock would tell her to slow it down and take it in chunks. 

 

“You better make sure she doesn’t burn herself on the kettle.” Sherlock whispered to John. 

 

John nodded and let out a breath. “Right”

 

John joined Rosie in the kitchen and chuckled as he watched her trying to drag a chair over to the counter. 

 

“Papa help.” Rosie said when she saw him watching her.

 

John moved the chair for her and helped her climb onto it. 

 

“So you’re making tea for Daddy?” John asked. 

 

“Daddy’s not feeling good so I make him feel better with tea.” Rosie told John. “Mrs. Hudson says tea make everything better.” 

 

“Makes.” John said much like Sherlock does. “Tea  _ makes _ everything better.”

 

“Oh.” Rosie nodded. “Mrs. Hudson says tea makes everything better.” 

 

“Well Mrs. Hudson is very smart about things like that isn’t she?”

 

“Yes.” Rosie nodded. 

 

John helped her finish the tea, then walked with her as she brought the tray to Sherlock. Rosie had a proud smile on her face and an excited look in her eyes. 

 

“Wow.” Sherlock exclaimed as he sat up slowly. “Look at this.” 

 

“I maked tea Daddy!” 

 

“Made.” Sherlock smiled as he leaned forward and put his hand on her back. 

 

“Oh. I made tea Daddy!” Rosie smiled as she moved the tray closer.

 

“I see, I can’t wait to taste it.” 

 

“Rosie, why don’t you give me the tray and sit with Daddy.” John suggested as he winked at Sherlock. “He needs some cuddles.”

 

“Okay!” 

 

Rosie gave the tray to John then started to climb up Sherlock’s leg. He helped her a little, but decided not to lift her for fear the pain would come back. Rosie didn’t seem to mind though, she simply climbed up and snuggled into Sherlock’s side. 

 

“Here is some tea for you.” John said as he handed a cup to Sherlock. “And one for Rosie.”

 

“Daddy…” Rosie said calling Sherlock’s attention to her. “You’re pretty.”

 

“Well, thank you.” Sherlock’s smile was so bright. “You are too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it:)


	3. "Sherlock is Dying"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It fluffy

It had been a few days since Sherlock’s “Day of Pain” as John had now deemed it, and things seemed to be better. Rosie was jo longer ill, Sherlock was still experiencing cramps and nausea though not nearly as bad as before, and when the pain did rise as it had, it never lasted more than a few hours. All in all, things were looking up for the Watson-Holmes family. Sherlock and John still haven’t told Rosie about the baby, nor had they told anyone else. It hadn’t been long since they found out and they were still adjusting to everything. 

“Sherlock,” Mrs. Hudson called as she knocked on the door. “Someone is here to see you.” 

“It better not be a bloody doctor John! Or I swear-” Sherlock stopped when he turned and saw Lestrade standing in the doorway. “Oh, hello.” 

“I’m sorry, a doctor?” Lestrade asked as he made his way into the flat. “Why a doctor.” 

“Daddy’s been ill.” Rosie said as she ran and jumped into Lestrade’s arms. “But Papa says he’s okay.” 

“Ill?” Lestrade raised an eyebrow at Sherlock. 

“Yes, yes. Rosie and I had the flu for some time.” Sherlock dismissed. “I’ll be fine.” 

“Sherlock.” John said as he walked into the room. “I thought you were resting.” 

“I was.” Sherlock growled. “Rosie and I were playing chess. I thought you finally had enough and called a doctor.” 

“I told you I wouldn’t do that.” John reminded. 

“Papa, can I go play with Danny?” Rosie asked. “His mummy is take us to the park.”

“Taking.” Sherlock corrected. 

“Oh. His mummy is taking us to the park.” Rosie said again with a smile. 

“I’m sorry John, I forgot to inform you Mrs. Jones invited Rosie to a playdate at the park. I accepted, but as of right now I cannot take her.” Sherlock said locking eyes with John. 

There was something about the look on Sherlock’s face, his tone of voice, and John’s reaction that sparked worry and confusion in Lestrade. 

“Yeah, Rosie go get your coat.” John told her, his voice soft and his eyes never leaving Sherlock. 

Lestrade put the young girl on the floor and she ran off to her room. John took a step closer to Sherlock but stopped when Sherlock gave a subtle shake of his head. 

“Are you alright?” Lestrade asked, searching Sherlock with his eyes. 

“Fine.” Sherlock said then walked past John, putting his hand gently on the shorter man's shoulder. “I’m sorry Lestrade, I cannot help you at this time. If you find something and need help, text me, and I shall solve it from the comfort of my flat.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” 

“He’s not leaving right now.” John spoke as Sherlock moved carefully to his chair. “He’s still unwell.”

“What’s wrong?” Lestrade asked. “Is it serious?” 

“I suppose it is… in many ways.” Sherlock looked to John. “For the time being, I am confined to the flat, for my safety and comfort. Please do let me know if there is anything I can assist with from here.” 

“You’re serious?” Lestrade asked. 

“Afraid so.” 

“Well, I’m off to take Rosie to her playdate.” John said when he saw Rosie skipping into the room. “Go give Daddy a kiss.” 

“Daddy!” Rosie said running towards Sherlock then stopping and moving carefully to his legs. “Don’t want to hurt you.” 

“You won’t Rosie.” Sherlock told her as he helped her climb into his lap. “Daddy’s just a bit sore, but I’m getting better, I promise.” 

“Okay… will you be better when I come home?” Rosie asked as she reached up and ran her tiny fingers down Sherlock’s face, much like John does.

“I hope so.” Sherlock smiled and kissed her hand. “Now you go have fun with Danny and don’t worry about me. Be good for Mrs. Jones.” 

“Yes, sir.” She nodded and reached up to give him a kiss on his cheek. “Bye Daddy.” 

“Come on, don’t want to keep Mrs. Jones waiting.” John smiled as he scooped her up into his arms, then looked at Sherlock. “Call me if it gets bad. I’ll only be a few minutes.” 

“I will survive a couple minutes without you.” Sherlock told him. “Go, she’s getting impatient.” 

Lestrade watched as John left with Rosie and Sherlock stayed where he was, badly moving. His hand was resting on his stomach and he looked pale, thinner than usual, and very tired. 

“Still the flu?” Lestrade asked. 

“No.” Sherlock said. “The flu is not that serious Inspector, and what flu pray tell last longer than four weeks?” 

“Four weeks?” Lestrade nearly gasped. “You’ve been sick for four weeks and you haven’t seen a doctor?” 

“I live with a doctor.” Sherlock countered. 

“You need to see a doctor.” 

“I will in good time.” Sherlock told him. “Just not yet.” 

“Why?” 

“I am not ready.” Sherlock said simply. “It is a bit premature.” 

“You’ve been sick for four weeks!”

“Yes, and I will be sick for a lot longer.” Sherlock told him. “Now please do show yourself out, I am going to take a nap.” 

“Sherlock.” Lestrade stopped him. “Please, let me know when you see a doctor, and when you’re feeling better.” 

“Don’t worry Greg, I’ll be fine.” Sherlock said before walked down the hall. 

The use of Lestrade’s first name was enough to spring panic in his chest. The first and only thought in his mind was “Sherlock is dying”. 

When John came back he knew Sherlock was going to be in the bedroom. 

That morning had been rough on Sherlock. He hardly slept the night before and every time he woke up he would run to the bathroom and the cramps had come back pretty painfully. At first, Sherlock tried to keep quiet so he didn’t wake John, but after the pain reached “Day of Pain” levels Sherlock had rolled over to look at John.

“John…” Sherlock whispered to John to wake him up. “John.”

“Sherlock, what-what time is it?” John asked squinting to see in the darkness of the room. “Are you okay?”

“It hurts John.” Sherlock’s voice broke. 

Even in the darkness, John could tell there were tears in Sherlock’s eyes. He could feel the taller man shaking, and John’s heart broke. He pulled Sherlock close to him and held him tight, rubbing his stomach to try and relieve the pain Sherlock was feeling. They had spent most of the night like that. Rosie had come in at one point and asked to lay with them. John had been reluctant but Sherlock reassured him that Rosie could stay.

“Rosie, if you’re going to stay in here, you have to know Daddy isn’t feeling well.” John told his sleepy daughter. “Daddy’s tummy is hurting and I have to help him.”

“Daddy hurt?” Rosie asked, trying to look over at Sherlock. 

“Yes.” Sherlock nodded. 

“Daddy crying!” Rosie gasped. 

“It’s okay Rosie.” John hushed her. “You know when your tummy hurts? You get upset and cry? That’s why Daddy is crying.”

“I’m okay Rosie.” Sherlock told her. “You want a cuddle?”

“Don’t hurt you.” Rosie was now crying. 

“You won’t.” Sherlock told her, his voice soft. “I’d really like a cuddle, if that’s okay with you.”

Rosie agreed and crawled over John and snuggled into Sherlock’s chest. John had gone back to rubbing Sherlock’s stomach and nuzzling his face into Sherlock’s hair. 

John stood in the doorway for a moment. Sherlock was laying on the bed, shirt off, hands on his stomach. He turned his head and called John over. 

“Still cramping?” John asked as he sat on the bed. 

“Not too much.” Sherlock smiled. “I was just feeling…”

“Are you okay? Is the baby okay?” John was worried. 

“We are fine.” Sherlock chuckled. “I was just feeling it.”

“Feeling?” 

“Feeling, thinking, whatever.” Sherlock was getting frustrated. “I think I am about four weeks along.” 

“Oh?” 

“It would explain a lot of the symptoms I have experienced today.” Sherlock replied. 

“Symptoms? Other than cramping and nausea?” John’s heart started to beat faster. “What symptoms?”

“I have been dizzy, light headed, anxious…”

“What about?” John asked. 

“I don’t know… everything.” Sherlock took a deep breath. “Will you… will you hold me?”

“Of course.” John laid down and pulled Sherlock into his arms. “You know you can tell me if you’re anxious about anything. Even if you think it is stupid, or irrelevant, I assure you I want to know. I will be here for you, and I will never judge you.”

“I’m worried about Rosie.” Sherlock whispered. “I know she’s safe, she’s with Mrs. Jones, and Mrs. Jones will keep her safe… but I’m still so worried.” 

“That’s normal Sherlock.” John told him. “I worry about Rosie too.”

“I feel like I’m going to have a panic attack.” Sherlock breathed out as he shook his head. “Constantly… I just feel… I’m worrying about the baby, Rosie, you, Greg, Mycroft, Mrs. Hudson, my parents-”

“Sherlock, that’s okay.” John told him. “We can call a doctor or I could try to do an exam if you need to put your mind at ease about the baby. Rosie is going to be home in two hours, Mrs. Jones is bringing her. I am fine, I’m right here with you and I’m not leaving. Greg just left, and I could text him if you want to check on him. I could also text Mycroft if you want me to, or you could call him. Mrs. Hudson is just down stairs, we can go chat with her when you calm down. Your parents would probably love a call from you, and would probably enjoy hearing from Rosie too.” 

“I’m homesick John.” Sherlock whispered a tear falling down his cheek. “I’m never homesick, this is my home… you and Rosie… but I miss my mum. I miss-”

“What is it?” John asked propping himself up on his elbow so he could look at Sherlock’s face. 

Sherlock closed his eyes and let out a sob. “I miss Mary.”

“Oh.” John’s heart dropped. “Oh Sherlock… I miss her too.” 

Sherlock rolled and buried his face in John’s chest and continued to sob. John held him close, he was crying as well. He could feel the sobs and tremors reck Sherlock’s body. John’s shirt was wet from Sherlock’s tears and Sherlock was clutching John’s shirt. 

“Mood swings.” Sherlock mumbled after a long time of sobbing into John’s chest. 

John sniffed and cleared his throat. “What?”

“Mood swings.” Sherlock said again. “Another symptom.” 

“Ah.” John nodded, still holding Sherlock. 

“When will Rosie be home?” Sherlock questioned quietly.

“Soon.” 

“John, can we spend the holidays with my parents?” Sherlock asked. 

“Of course.” John nodded. “I want Rosie to know her grandparents.” 

“Don’t say that.” Sherlock started to cry again. “Don’t be sweet while I’m having emotions!”

“Sherlock, you are her father.” John said. “Your parents are her grandparents.”

Sherlock just shook his head and cuddled closer to John. John hugged him tighter and smiled. He was almost happy for the flood of hormones Sherlock was experiencing because he knew this was who Sherlock was on the inside. This was who Sherlock tried to hide.

“I think Rosie is going to be a good big sister.” Sherlock said quietly.

“She will.” John nodded. 

“I want to tell her.” Sherlock said. “I want her to know why I’m so sick, and I want her to be a part of what’s going on.”

“Okay.”

“I want her to chose things for the baby, toys, clothes, books, anything. I want her to have an important role in this. I don’t want her to feel neglected or like the baby is taking all our attention.” Sherlock sniffed. “I want her to have a say in everything. She can come to the appointments and scans. I don’t want her to resent the baby.”

“Sherlock-” John was holding back tears as he listened to Sherlock’s words. “You are such an amazing dad… Rosie will be so excited. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” Sherlock said. “I don’t tell you that enough John.”

“It’s okay.” John told him as he wiped a tear from Sherlock’s face. “I know you love me.”

“I want to tell Mrs. Hudson as well.” Sherlock stated suddenly. “She is no doubt worried about what has been going on here, and I do not want to cause her more worry than I already do. I do not feel comfortable telling anyone else at the moment. It is all too possible I will miscarry, and I do not want to have to tell people. So if it is alright with you, I would like to wait to tell anyone else until I am into my second trimester. Please.”

“Of course, Sherlock… we can wait as long as you like.” John told him. “We can keep it our little secret until the baby is in our arms if you want.”

“I feel that is overdoing it a bit.” Sherlock sighed. “Seeing as I am already experiencing some bloating…”

“What?” John sat up and searched Sherlocks stomach. “How far along are you?”

“Four weeks give or take a few days.” Sherlock replied. “I’m not showing… it is just some bloating…”

“You’re beautiful.” John told him. “And you’re going to be so beautiful when you are six months, and nine months, and two months, and all the other ones.” 

“We should… we should get ready, I’d like to take Rosie out tonight.” Sherlock told John. “Maybe get some chips or ice cream.”

“Alright.” John nodded. “Shall we take a shower?”

Sherlock winked and followed John into the bathroom.


	4. Telling Rosie and Mrs. Hudson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More fluff

“John, get rid of the milk, it has spoiled.” Sherlock said when John opened the door to the fridge. “Please, it’s making me ill.” 

 

“Right.” John said before taking the milk out of the fridge and turning to the sink. 

 

“Not in here.” Sherlock told him, holding back a gag. “Take it down to Mrs. Hudson’s sink… please.”

 

“I’ll be right back.” John sighed. 

 

Sherlock went back to searching for pregnancy facts on his laptop. He had been doing this every day for a while now. He originally thought learning about pregnancy would help his anxiety but it was only making him worry about more stuff. 

 

“Daddy?” Rosie asked as she stood next to him. 

 

“Yes Rosie?” Sherlock turned to give her all his attention. 

 

“Are you feeling better yet?” 

 

“A little, but my tummy is still a little upset.” Sherlock told her. “Some smells and foods are making me sick.”

 

“What smells?” 

 

“Milk at the moment.” Sherlock sighed. “And the pasta sauce that was in the fridge. Papa had to throw that out last night.”

 

“Oh… so no more pasta?” 

 

“Just for right now, but if you want some your Papa can take you to go get some.” Sherlock told the young girl. 

 

“No Daddy, I’m okay.” Rosie said then took a step closer to him. “Will cuddles make you sick?”

 

“No, cuddles could never make me sick.” Sherlock smiled. “Shall we cuddle on the sofa? I’ll read to you.”

 

“Really?” Rosie’s eyes got wide with excitement. 

 

“Yes, go pick out a book.” Sherlock told her and watched as she ran off to get a book from her room. 

 

“The milk is gone.” John announced as he walked back into the flat. “It wasn’t spoiled though…”

 

“I know. I’m sorry.” Sherlock looked away from him. “I could smell it… and, well… it had to go.” 

 

“I understand, there is no reason to be sorry.” John smiled as he kissed Sherlock’s cheek. “So smells now?”

 

“I must be farther along than I originally thought… I didn’t expect to be experiencing things like this for another couple of days… I must be five weeks… not four…” Sherlock was trying to do some mental calculations but nothing was adding up. “Either I’m right or the websites are right and pregnancy is making me stupid.”

 

“I’m sure pregnancy isn’t making you stupid.” John chuckled. “I think you’re just taking what the internet says happens in each week a bit too literally.” 

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Well, your symptoms.” John said. “You’re trying to use them to figure out how far along you are, but it varies with every person. Some people start getting morning sickness at five weeks, some get it at two weeks, some have it the whole way through.” 

 

“So I should stop trying to figure out how far along I am?” Sherlock asked, genuinely confused. 

 

“No, what I’m saying is we need to go see an OB.” John said. 

 

“Make the appointment for soon.” Sherlock said quickly as he saw Rosie running back into the room. “Did you find a book?”

 

“Yes!” Rosie nodded. “The Velveteen Rabbit.”

 

“Alright.” Sherlock smiled. 

 

Once Sherlock was settled on the sofa, Rosie climbed into his lap and rested her head on his chest. Sherlock opened the book and looked at John, who was watching them. 

 

“I’m going to go do that.” John told him. 

 

“I want to tell them today.” Sherlock said as John walked away. 

 

“Alright.” John said and smiled when he heard Sherlock start reading to Rosie. 

 

John had finished making the appointment and started to walk to the kitchen so he could start lunch when he heard Rosie gasp. 

 

“Daddy!” Rosie called. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Sherlock!” John yelled as he ran into the room, his heart pounding as he did so. 

 

“Daddy, why are you crying?” Rosie asked, early crying herself from fear. 

 

“Sherlock… Sherlock, what is it?” John asked, kneeling in front of Sherlock. “Are you in pain? What hurts? Sherlock!”

 

“It’s just so sad.” Sherlock whimpered as he hid his face. “I’ve read this book to Rosie so many times… but it just hit me how sad it is.”

 

“Christ.” John sighed as he deflated and rested his head on Sherlock’s knee. “Christ Sherlock, I thought you- I thought… oh christ.”

 

“Daddy?” Rosie whispered. 

 

“I’m sorry Rosie, I just got sad for a moment.” Sherlock said as he wiped tears from his eyes.  “I’m okay.”

 

Rosie said nothing, she just wrapped her arms around his torso and hugged him. Sherlock brought his hand to her back and rubbed soothing circles. Rosie started to cry softly into his shirt as he held her. 

 

“It’s okay Rosie.” John told her when he finally caught his breath. “Daddy is okay.” 

 

“I’m sorry for worrying you Rosie.” Sherlock was now in tears because of his crying daughter. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

 

“Sherlock…” John said softly. 

 

“I’m okay.” Sherlock nodded and allowed John to wipe the new tears from his face. “Why don’t you go get Mrs. Hudson and we will have some tea and talk.”

 

“Sounds like a good idea.” John nodded. 

 

“Rosie, will you look at me?” Sherlock asked. 

 

Rosie slowly lifted her head to look at Sherlock. 

 

“I know It’s not like Daddy to cry, but there is a reason for it.” Sherlock told her. “You did nothing wrong, and I am fine.”

 

“What reason?” Rosie asked softly. 

 

“I’ll tell you when Mrs. Hudson and Papa get back.” Sherlock told her. “I am truly sorry I scared you.”

 

“It okay Daddy.” Rosie said. “You not mean to.”

 

“Did not.” Sherlock corrected. 

 

“Oh… You did not mean to.” Rosie said. 

 

“You’re right, I didn’t mean to… but I did, and I’m sorry.”

 

“I forgives you.” Rosie said and hugged Sherlock again. 

 

Sherlock let the grammar slide and instead hugged her close to him. They sat there together as Sherlock hummed to her to calm her down. She wasn’t too upset anymore, but Sherlock knew it was scary and weird for her to see him cry. 

 

“That’s lovely Sherlock.” Mrs. Hudson said as she walked in with John. “Hello, Rosie.”

 

“Mrs. Hudson!” Rosie cheered as she ran to the older woman. 

 

“How are you dear?” Mrs. Hudson asked as she held Rosie’s hand. 

 

Rosie glanced to Sherlock then looked down at her shoes. 

 

“I fear I scared her while we were reading.” Sherlock sighed. 

 

“What did you do Sherlock?” Mrs. Hudson sighed. “Did you use a scary voice again?”

 

“He cried.” John smirked. 

 

“Don’t you laugh.” Sherlock smiled and pointed at John. “You nearly had a heart attack, might I remind you.”

 

“Yes well… I thought something different was happening.” John said softly. 

 

“I’m sorry John, I didn't mean to scare you as well.” Sherlock looked down at his hands. “Why don’t we have some tea and talk?”

 

“Rosie, why don’t you come help me fix a kettle?” Mrs. Hudson suggested as she glanced from John to Sherlock. 

 

Once they were in the kitchen John rushed over to Sherlock and wrapped him in his arms. They were sitting on the sofa, John’s face nuzzled into the crook of Sherlock’s neck. There were tears in his eyes as he breathed heavy trying to calm himself. 

 

“Christ Sherlock… I thought-” John let out another breath that made his body shiver. “I thought we lost it.” 

 

“I’m sorry.” Sherlock said as he held John. “I’m so sorry. John, I never meant to scare you and Rosie. Please, you have to know that.”

 

“Of course I know that, and so does Rosie.” John said pulling away to look Sherlock in the eyes as he caressed his cheeks. “We were just worried about you because we love you.”

 

“If this how I’m going to be until the baby comes… I’m going to need to find a new place to stay.” Sherlock sighed. “I can’t keep scaring her… what if next time it’s me getting angry and yelling for no reason, or what if I yell at her? John, I can’t live with myself if I make her scared of me.”

 

“Who said anything about that?” John looked at Sherlock in shock. “You’re not going anywhere, and once we explain to Rosie what’s going on she will not be scared. She’ll understand, and she will forgive. Just like I will.” 

 

“That story is just so sad.” Sherlock said looking down at the book in his hands. “I just couldn’t help it… tears just started coming, next thing I knew I was sobbing… because of a children’s book.”

 

“Mmm.” John pulled Sherlock into another hug. “Emotions suit you.” 

 

“Tea is ready!” Rosie called as she ran into the room, Mrs. Hudson following behind her with the tray. 

 

John got up from the sofa and started moving chairs so Mrs. Hudson and Rosie could sit across from them. Mrs. Hudson put the tea try on the coffee table and started to pour tea for everyone. After putting the chairs down John lifted Rosie into hers, then went and sat down next to Sherlock. 

 

“Alright, out with it.” Mrs. Hudson said as she sat down. 

 

“Out with it?” Sherlock raised an eyebrow at her. 

 

“Yes, out with it.” Mrs. Hudson said again. “You two have been acting strange, and Rosie tells me you’ve been sick, and don’t get me started on Greg.”

 

“Oh.” Sherlock nodded. 

 

“Well… Sherlock and I have some news.” John said then looked at Rosie. “Good news, very good news.”

 

“What is it?” Rosie asked excitedly.

 

“I’m pregnant.” Sherlock said. 

 

“Oh, Sherlock!” Mrs. Hudson cheered and clapped her hands happily as tears pricked her eyes. 

 

“What’s that mean?” Rosie asked. 

 

“It means Daddy’s got a baby in his belly.” John told her. “And you’re going to be a big sister.” 

 

“Really?” Rosie asked, her eyes getting wider. “Is the baby making Daddy sick?” 

 

“In a way yes.” John nodded. 

 

“When will the baby come?” Rosie asked. 

 

“In about eight months.” John smiled. 

 

“Is it a boy or a girl?” Rosie asked looking to Sherlock then back to John. 

 

“We don’t know yet.” John sighed. “We have to wait a little longer to find out.”

 

“Oh.” Rosie nodded. “Where is it? People with babies in their bellies look big… but Daddy isn't big.”

 

“I will be big soon.” Sherlock said quietly. 

 

“When?” 

 

“A couple weeks.” Sherlock replied. 

 

“Can I play with it?” Rosie asked. “Like my dollies?”

 

“When the baby gets a little older.” John said. “When the baby is born it’s going to be very small and very fragile.”

 

“Can I hold it?”

 

“Yes.” Sherlock nodded. “We will help you at first.” 

 

“Will it like me?” Rosie asked. 

 

“Of course, you’re the big sister.” Sherlock said. “Baby siblings always love their older siblings.”

 

“Like you love uncle My-cof?” Rosie asked, fumbling over Mycroft’s name. 

 

“Yes.” Sherlock nodded. 

 

“Can I talk to it?” Rosie asked. “Now?”

 

“If you want.” John smiled. “I’ve said a few things to it.”

 

Sherlock watched stiffly as Rosie climbed down from her chair and walked over to Sherlock. She stood in front of him for a moment, staring at his stomach, before looking up and smiling at him. 

 

“Daddy… is the baby here?” Rosie asked pointing to Sherlock’s belly button. 

 

“Yes.” Sherlock nodded.

 

He leaned back against the back of the sofa so Rosie could reach his stomach better. Rosie climbed up onto John’s lap then laid her head on Sherlock’s stomach. 

 

“Daddy? Does this hurt?” Rosie asked quickly. 

 

“No, Rosie. It doesn’t hurt.”

 

“Hi, baby.” Rosie whispered to Sherlock’s stomach as she put her hand on his belly button. “I’m your big sister.” 

 

“Oh my.” Mrs. Hudson hiccuped as she pressed a napkin to her nose. 

 

“Daddy?” Rosie asked, taking her head off of his stomach and turning to look at Sherlock. “What’s it feel like?” 

 

“It feels… different.” Sherlock told her. “I’m not really sure how it feels, it just feels different.”

 

“Okay.” Rosie was satisfied with his answer. “Daddy? Why are you crying?”

 

“The baby is making Daddy’s hormones go crazy, so he’s gonna be very emotional for a while.” John explained. “He’ll probably cry, and sometimes get angry over strange things.”

 

“What’s a ho-ramone?” Rosie asked. 

 

“A hormone is a chemical messenger. They travel through our bodies and coordinate processes like fertility, growth, and metabolism. They also influence the immune system and can alter behavior, like they are doing to me.” Sherlock explained. “They use the blood to travel to organs and tissues and tell them how to do their jobs. There are all sorts of hormones, some back you sad, and some make you happy, and because my hormones are all confused because of the baby I get happy really fast, but I can also get sad really fast. That’s called a mood swing.”

 

“Because of your mood  _ swings _ from happy to sad?” Rosie asked. 

 

“Exactly.” Sherlock smiled at Rosie. “I’m afraid it is going to be happening a lot. I may go from being happy to crying, then I might get angry and yell, and then I might start laughing.”

 

“That’s a lot.” Rosie said. “Why is the baby making you crazy?”

 

“It’s the hormones.” Sherlock told her. “The baby needs hormones to develop, so it’s using mine and making my hormones go crazy. Which makes me go crazy.”

 

“Oh… but you’re okay?” Rosie asked. “The baby ho-ramoneses are not hurting you?”

 

“No, the hormones don’t hurt Daddy, they just affect his mood.” John told her. “But Daddy does hurt sometimes.” 

 

“Why?” 

 

“It’s normal.” Sherlock said. “And not a bad hurt.”

 

“What hurt?” 

 

“Daddy gets cramps in his tummy.” John told her. 

 

“Why?”

 

“Because the baby is growing.” John said. 

 

“Oh.” 

 

Mrs. Hudson still had happy tears streaming down her face as she watched her boys interact with their daughter, and talk to her about their unborn child. She loved seeing Sherlock with his family. She loved him like the son she never had, and he had brought her John, who had accepted the fact she was part of their lives. John had brought Mary and Mary had brought Rosie. And they all brought so much love to her Sherlock who had come to her with no one. Sherlock and Mycroft had a falling out after Sherlock OD’ed. Sherlock had wanted to keep his parents far from his drug habit so he estranged himself from them, and Sherlock didn’t make friends easily. So Mrs. Hudson had taken him in after he had helped her make sure her late husband would, in fact, be her “late” husband. 

 

“Mrs. Hudson…” Sherlock whispered. “Are those happy tears?” 

 

“Yes Sherlock!” She sobbed out. “You have no idea how happy I am for you!”

 

“Sherlock wanted you and Rosie to be the first to know.” John said as he helped Sherlock sit back up, even if Sherlock didn’t need help. 

 

“I’m… before your parents?” Mrs. Hudson asked, looking at Sherlock with pure love and happiness. 

 

“Of course, you are the child’s most immediate grandparent.” Sherlock said. “You deserve to know, and I know I’m going to need help, a mother’s help, and you have always provided that for me. So even though I am only around four or five weeks, and we are not telling anyone until the second trimester, I wanted you to know.” 

 

“Oh, Sherlock.” Mrs. Hudson started crying again.

 

“Don’t cry Grandma Hudson.” Rosie said as she climbed down from John’s lap and walked over to Mrs. Hudson. “The baby is good thing.” 

 

“I know love.” Mrs. Hudson smiled and pulled Rosie in for a hug. “I’m just so happy. These are happy tears. Your Daddy said some really sweet things that made me very happy.” 

 

“Oh.” Rosie nodded. “Will Daddy cry happy tears too?”

 

“Yes.” John nodded. “You can count on that.”

 

Sherlock sat back and smiled. This was his family. He was happy to be bringing a child into such a loving family. He wasn’t worried if the baby was going to be loved. He could see by looking at the three people who sat around letting their tea get cold, that this baby would have no lack of love. 

 

“If you guys are alright with it, I’d like take everyone out for chips, and maybe some ice cream.” Sherlock said suddenly. 

 

“Celebrate?” Rosie asked. 

 

“Yeah, so we can celebrate.” Sherlock nodded. 

 

Mrs. Hudson ran downstairs to grab her coat and purse, while John and Sherlock got Rosie ready to go out. Once they were all in their coats, they started walking down the sidewalk. It was a nice day for September, and they all wanted to enjoy  the weather before it got too cold. Rosie had attached herself to Sherlock’s side, wanting to hold his hand or be next to him at all times. Sherlock and John stood on either side of her and held her hands as they walked. Mrs. Hudson walked close to Sherlock, linking her arm through his. Sherlock walked with his arm bent and his hand resting on his stomach. 

 

It was subtly, especially when Mrs. Hudson had her arm in his. John had noticed, because he knew Sherlock and he had seen him walking around the flat with his hand never leaving his stomach. At first John had thought he was trying to calm the nausea or cramps, but he soon realized Sherlock was in awe of what was going on inside his body. Keeping his hand on his stomach was a way of remembering what was in there and protecting it. 

 

Even though Sherlock had a brilliant mind that could remember something he glanced at years ago, his mind could not remember the basic human needs Sherlock had. Sherlock was great at taking care of Rosie because he could remember her favorite everything, and he could predict what she needed before she asked. Sherlock could take care of John, remembering how he took his tea and coffee, knowing if John didn’t sleep well and needed to rest, he could tell John’s shoulder was going to hurt before John could. But for all the knowledge Sherlock had about taking care of others he had no knowledge on how to take care of himself. 

 

He had gotten better over the years. But he still forgot to sleep, eat, and drink when his mind was on something else. It was nothing like it used to be, mainly because Sherlock didn’t want to scare Rosie, but there were still times when John would come home to find Sherlock had passed out on the floor of their room because he hadn’t eaten in two days, or when Sherlock would work himself so hard he was sick, or the rare times Sherlock would disappear for a few days and John would come home and find him in the bathtub shaking from withdrawal, new track marks littering his arms.  

 

Those were not the best things to come home to, but Sherlock always kept in mind Rosie lived there, and he would hide everything until he was somewhere where Rosie couldn't find him. Sherlock never kept anything dangerous in the flat. No drugs, no chemicals, no weapons that Rosie could get to. Sherlock would never take care of Rosie when he was on something, and he would never be around her if he had too much of something and was worried he would scare her. He cared so much about Rosie that he destroyed himself trying to keep her safe. He wouldn’t tell John if something was wrong until Rosie couldn’t hear them, and he would always try to make things seem not as bad as they were if Rosie was there. 

 

John knew that keeping his hand on his stomach was Sherlock’s way of reminding himself that there was a baby in there, depending on him to stay healthy and take care of himself so he could take care of the baby. It made John’s heart flutter happily when he thought about Sherlock caring for the baby… their baby. John was happy and he could tell Sherlock was too. 


	5. Just a Tadpole

John woke up in the morning cursed himself for making such an early appointment. Rosie didn’t sleep well because she went to a birthday party early the day before and had too many sweets, and Sherlock was sick most of the night and didn’t go to bed until three or four in the morning. John didn’t get much sleep either, he had been going back and forth trying to calm Rosie, and trying to help Sherlock feel better. 

“Sherlock, we have to leave in a half hour.” John said softly, knowing Sherlock was awake enough to hear him. “I’ll be back in after getting Rosie ready, rest until I come back and I’ll help you.” 

Sherlock nodded and put his arm over his eyes. 

John walked down the hall to Rosie’s room and smiled when he found her sleeping soundly.

“Rosie, sweetheart, time to wake up.” John whispered as he sat on her bed. “Come on baby girl, time to get up.”

“We see Baby today?” Rosie asked sleepily. 

“Yeah, we’re going to see the baby today.” John nodded. 

“Can I bring Groot?” Rosie asked holding up her plush toy of the Groot character from Guardians of the Galaxy. 

“Of course you can.” John told her. “Let’s get you dressed.”

“Can I be Spiderman today?” 

“Yes.” John chuckled as he went to grab her Spiderman costume onesie thing.

Once she was dressed John helped her put her shoes on and sent her to go brush her teeth. He then went to help Sherlock who had gotten as far as taking his shirt off and grabbing some clothes out of his wardrobe. 

“John.” Sherlock yawned. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, let’s get you dressed.” John smiled as he went to help Sherlock get dressed. 

“Daddy, will you put my hair in pigtails?” Rosie asked running into their room and jumping up onto their bed. 

“Of course.” Sherlock nodded. “Did you brush your teeth?”

“Yes.” Rosie said then smiled widely. 

“Good girl.” John said as he handed Sherlock a hairbrush and some hair ties. “I’m going to get dressed, then we should leave.”

Sherlock nodded and motioned for Rosie to come stand in front of him so he could put her hair up. 

“So you’re Spiderman today?” Sherlock asked his daughter. 

“Yeah!” Rosie nodded. “Do you think Baby will like it?” 

“I think Baby will love it.” 

John came back into the room and smiled. He liked mornings with his family. Sherlock was always so cuddly when he didn’t sleep well, and it was nice to see him cuddling Rosie. It made John’s heart swell with love as he watched his husband and his daughter talking excitedly about the baby. 

“Ready?” John asked. 

Sherlock and Rosie nodded and followed John downstairs. John grabbed their coats and helped both Rosie and Sherlock into theirs before putting his own coat on. He then scooped Rosie up in one arm and wrapped the other around Sherlock. Sherlock still had one hand resting on his stomach and a content smile on his face. 

Once in the taxi, Rosie sat between them chattering away to Sherlock and John about everything. Sherlock, somehow, was following along and providing Rosie with answers to questions and correcting her grammar when she struggled, all while he was texting on his phone. John could barely keep up with Rosie’s fast ramblings while he gave her his full attention, let alone when he was texting. 

“-and then… and then…” Rosie stopped talking and looked at Sherlock. “Daddy?”

“Yes, Rosie.” Sherlock said turning off his phone and looking at her. 

“Can I feel your tummy?” Rosie asked. 

“Sure.” Sherlock nodded and moved his arm so she could cuddle into his side and put her hand on his stomach. 

“Why is Baby not bigger?” Rosie asked. 

“The baby needs to grow.” Sherlock told her. “Just like you grow.”

“Oh…”

Ever since they had told Rosie about Sherlock’s pregnancy she had been asking questions non stop. Sherlock never failed to give her an answer, but some just confused her more. John tried to help with the answers but he was better at explaining why Sherlock was acting a certain way, or why they couldn’t eat pasta or watch a movie they had watched before because it would make Sherlock cry.

“So, I found a good OB through a colleague from Uni. He is an expert in his field and has studied male pregnancies longer than most. I made sure he is was young enough that he would consider new methods, but old enough that he knows what he’s doing. He has a private office, so we don’t have to go to the hospital or be around a bunch of people. He has all the equipment needed for scans, checkups, tests, and birth.” John rattled off to Sherlock. “Because he works privately he is not in it for the money or for fame, he has a passion for this. I think he’ll be good. If you don’t like him we will leave and I will find someone self, I have about five to seven others I am considering… Some are more experienced than him, but there have been reports of them sticking with outdated methods rather than the new easier and safer stuff… I umm… yeah.” 

“I’m sure you chose well.” Sherlock said. “I trust you.” 

“Oh… Okay.” John nodded, a bit surprised by Sherlock’s reaction. “His name is Dr. Troye Owen.” 

“Welsh?” 

“I think so.” John nodded. 

Sherlock smiled and looked down at Rosie who still had her hand on his stomach. “Lovely.” 

When they got to Dr. Owen’s office John paid the driver. When he turned around to take Sherlock’s hand gasped when he saw Sherlock holding Rosie on his hip, listening to her talk. 

“Should you be-”

“John, I’m fine.” Sherlock told him. “I was carrying her up and down the stairs not three days before I took the tests, nothing has changed.”

John nodded and placed his hand on the small of Sherlock’s back as they walked to the door. Sherlock helped Rosie use the door knocker and smiled when she started to giggle. John was still attached to him and was still worrying about Sherlock carrying Rosie. Rosie kicked her feet lightly when Sherlock reached up and tickled her chin. 

“Be careful Rosie.” John said as he caught her foot in his hand. 

“John, she’s fine.” Sherlock snapped then held Rosie closer. 

The door opened before any of them could say anything else. A young man stood in front of them, his hair was red, and freckles littler his face and neck. He had a kind smile and bright blue eyes. 

“Daddy, his pretty.” Rosie whispered loudly to Sherlock. 

“I think you’re pretty too.” Dr. Owen smiled at Rosie and held his hand out to her. “My name is Troye, what’s your name?”

“Rosie.” Rosie smiled shyly as she took his hand. 

“It’s lovely to meet you Rosie.” Dr. Owen said as he bent down to kiss her hand like a prince would kiss the hand of a princess in the Disney movies, he then looked to John and Sherlock and smiled. “And you two must be the expecting parents.” 

“Yes.” John answered, holding out his hand to shake Troye’s. “I’m John, and this is my husband Sherlock.” 

“Nice to meet you both.” Troye said shaking John’s hand then turning to Sherlock and smiling when he saw Sherlock was holding Rosie on his right side. “I’d shake your hand but…”

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Owen.” Sherlock smiled kindly then looked to John as if to ask ‘was that good?’. 

“Please, call me Troye.” Dr. Owen said. “Let’s go inside shall we?” 

John and Sherlock followed the young doctor into the office. It was homey and comfortable, nothing like hospitals. 

“Please tell my husband it is alright for me to carry our daughter.” Sherlock said as he walked around the room letting Rosie point him in the direction she wanted to go to look at things. “He is overly worried.”

“Sherlock, you’re the pregnant one correct?” Troye asked. 

“Yes.” Sherlock nodded. 

“How far along do you think?” 

“Four or five weeks.” Sherlock told him. 

“And you normally carry Rosie around?” Troye asked. 

“Yes.” Sherlock replied. 

“Then I see no reason why you can’t carry her.” Troye concluded. “It may get more difficult as you get farther along, but at the moment I see nothing wrong with it. As long as it doesn’t cause you pain.”

“I told you.” Sherlock said to John. 

“Shall we get started?” Troye asked. 

John and Sherlock both nodded and followed him over to the examination area. John took Rosie from Sherlock and held her on his left hip, while he held Sherlock’s hand with his right hand. 

“I’d like to start by taking some blood.” Troye said. “And then doing an ultrasound.”

Sherlock nodded but stopped him before he rolled his sleeve up all the way. 

“You won’t be able to find a vein…” Sherlock nearly whispered, not meeting anyone's eyes. “I have a history of…”

Troye nodded and glanced to Rosie. “You’re not still-”

“No.” Sherlock said quickly. “Not for a while. Especially not when I thought I might be pregnant.”

Troye nodded and moved to his hand. “These veins okay?” 

Sherlock nodded and took a breath. 

“It’s okay Sherlock.” John whispered to Sherlock, knowing his drug habit was a sore subject. 

“Will you be able to detect if any of my… past recreational habits could affect the baby?” Sherlock asked as Troye took a couple vials of blood. 

“I’m fairly certain if you hadn’t done anything more than drink or smoke within a week or so of conception, and you haven’t done anything since your baby will be unaffected. But I will run some tests to make sure.” Troye said with a smile. “Alright, done with that. Your hand may bruise, but it should go away in a few days.” 

Sherlock nodded and watched as Troye put the blood through some tests. 

“Rosie, do you want to come sit with me?” Sherlock asked. 

Rosie nodded and John helped her climb over to the examination bed Sherlock was half laying half sitting on. Rosie cuddled into his side, resting her head on his chest and putting her hand on his stomach. 

“Aww, you’re already such a good big sister.” Troye told Rosie as he turned to look at Sherlock. 

“Is she alright here?” John asked. 

“Oh yeah, she’s fine.” Troye smiled up at John. “We will work around her.” 

“I’m sleepy Daddy.” Rosie whispered to Sherlock. 

“You can sleep, I’ll hold you.” Sherlock told her.

Rosie nodded sleepily and snuggled herself closer to Sherlock before closing her eyes. 

“So, is this your second?” Troye asked as he prepared some equipment, he kept his voice soft so he didn’t disturb Rosie. 

“No, well… Kind of.” John furrowed his brow and glanced down to Sherlock and Rosie. 

“I did not carry Rosie.” Sherlock explained to Troye. “Rosie’s mum was John’s wife, and my girlfriend, she died not long after Rosie was born.”

“I see.” Troye said. “I’m sorry for your loss.” 

“Thank you.” John said as he moved his hand to brush some hair from Sherlock’s forehead. 

“While those tests run, I’d like to take an ultrasound.” Troye told Sherlock. “Could you roll up your shirt?” 

Sherlock did as he was told and Troye brought over the machine. He started everything up and put some gel on Sherlock’s stomach. 

“We probably won't be able to hear the heartbeat, but if you want to try for a heartbeat… we would have to use a different kind of ultrasound.” Troye told them. 

“More invasive.” Sherlock added, more for himself. 

Troye nodded and ran the wand over Sherlock’s stomach. John woke whispered to Rosie that they were looking at the baby now and she opened her eyes to look at the screen. 

“See this little dot here?” Troye said pointing to a bean looking thing. “This is the baby.”

“That’s the baby?” Rosie asked with wide eyes. 

“It’s not… it’s bigger.” John said looking at Sherlock. “You said…”

“I know what I said.” Sherlock said quickly. “I thought… apparently, I was wrong.”

“You are more around six or seven weeks.” Troye said. “What have your symptoms been so far?”

“Mood swings, cramping, nausea, dizziness, I’ve been light headed, aversions to smells and food, I’m urinating often, I’ve been tired but I don’t normally sleep well, I’ve been getting headaches but that isn’t abnormal.” Sherlock listed. 

“Any cravings?” Troye asked. 

Before Sherlock could say no, John spoke up. “Chips and ice cream.” 

“What?” Sherlock didn’t think he was having cravings. 

“Two five times in two days you mentioned chips and ice cream.” John said. “And you nearly orgasmed when you mixed the two.”

“Papa, what’s an orgasm?” Rosie asked. 

Both men were silent, unable to think about how to explain to their five year old what an orgasm was. They hadn’t talked about anything like that. They had gotten as far as John and Sherlock telling her that babies come from wombs not tummies and they had special ways of getting out. 

“It’s a grownup thing, Rosie.” Troye said, winking at both Sherlock and John. “It's a thing that happens to grown-ups, especially with pregnancy.”

“Oh… why don’t it happen to not grownups?” Rosie asked.

“Because you have to be able to have a baby.” Troye told her. “And children can’t have babies.”

“Oh.” Rosie smiled. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” Troye smiled. “It’s alright that you didn’t know you were having cravings Sherlock, most people don’t even realize they are pregnant until they are at least eight weeks along.”

“I guess I wasn’t even thinking about cravings.” Sherlock sighed. “So six or seven weeks then?”

“Looks like.” Troye nodded. “I’d say end of week six, beginning of week seven.” 

“Can we hear the heartbeat?” John asked. 

“It still may be too early.” Troye sighed. “But we can try.”

Troye flicked a few things on the machine, but he shook his head. He then tried a few more things before sighing and looking at Sherlock. 

“Can’t find the heartbeat?” John asked. 

“Not with the regular ultrasound.” Troye said. 

“I need to hear the heartbeat.” Sherlock said quietly, but desperately. 

“Alright.” Troye’s voice was calm and he didn’t try to calm Sherlock, knowing he would only be calm when he heard the heartbeat.

“Daddy? Are you okay?” Rosie asked, noticing Sherlock’s strange breathing and the tears in his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine Rosie.” Sherlock nodded and hugged her tightly. “I’m just nervous.”

“Why?” 

“It’s the hormones baby.” John said. “They make Daddy anxious.”

“Why?” Rosie asked looking to John. 

“Well, we are worried about the baby.” John said.

“Why?”

“Well, the baby is older than we thought, and we wanted to hear the heartbeat… but because the baby is still really small Dr. Troye couldn’t get the heartbeat with the machine.” John told her. “And Daddy needs to hear the heartbeat before he can calm down because hearing the heartbeat will tell us that the baby is healthy.”

“Oh.” Rosie nodded. “It’s okay Daddy. Do you need to cry?”

“Maybe.” Sherlock’s voice broke and he squeezed his eyes shut.

“You can cry Daddy.” Rosie said. “Papa says it’s okay to cry.”

Sherlock nodded and let a few tears slip down his cheeks. Rosie wiped the tears as they fell and tried to hum to Sherlock like he does with her. John felt like he could melt into a puddle while watching the cute scene in front of him. He could see Sherlock’s hands trembling as he cried. Sherlock had one arm wrapped around Rosie, holding John’s hand, and his other was glued to his stomach. Rosie was cuddled into Sherlock’s side, holding his face while he cried. John was holding Sherlock’s hand and running his fingers through Sherlock’s hair with his free hand. 

“Alright, I’m going to ask you to get undressed from the waist down.” Troye said. “John.”

John looked to him and nodded. “Sherlock, I’m going to pull your pants off, okay? All you have to do is lift up a bit so I can slide them down.”

“I’m going to put a sheet over you so you’re not too exposed.” Troye told him. 

Sherlock nodded and they both got to work. Sherlock kept Rosie facing him so she didn’t see anything. She was pretty occupied with watching Sherlock’s eyes as tears leaked down his face. 

“Alright, Sherlock, I’m going to put your feet in the stirrups okay?” Troye asked, waiting for Sherlock’s response before doing anything. 

John went up and grabbed Sherlock’s hand before kissing his head. Sherlock took a deep breath then nodded at Troye. Troye smiled then started to work. Sherlock winced when the tool penetrated him. Rosie looked worried but John comforted her and comforted Sherlock at the same time. Sherlock looked up at John and locked eyes with him. 

“You’re okay.” John told him quietly. “You’re both okay.”

Troye smiled and pushed a button in the machine and fast thumping filled the room. 

“Oh my god.” Sherlock gasped as more tears filled his eyes. 

“What is it Daddy?” Rosie asked worriedly. 

“That’s the baby’s heartbeat Rosie.” John said as he leaned over Sherlock and hurried his face in his hair. “That’s our baby.” 

“Strong heartbeat.” Troye smiled as he checked some things while the internal ultrasound was in use. “The womb looks good, there is no internal bleeding, everything looks good.” 

“Everything is okay. Sherlock, everything is okay.” John whispered to Sherlock and he kissed his forehead. “The baby is fine.” 

“Why are you guys crying?” Rosie asked, starting to panic because both of her fathers were crying. 

“Those are happy tears.” Troye told the young girl. “They are happy because the baby is okay.” 

“Oh.” Rosie was still unsure of her fathers’ reactions but she seemed calmer. 

“Look, that’s the baby.” Troye told her while he pointed to the screen. “It’s cool huh?” 

“It’s fuzzy.” Rosie said as she cocked her head to the side. “It doesn’t look like a baby.”

“It’s still developing.” Troye told her. “It’ll look like a baby soon.”

“It’s like a tadpole Rosie.” Sherlock told her as he tried to calm himself down. 

John was a bigger wreck than anyone in the room, he had been trying to stay strong for Sherlock and Rosie, but after hearing the heartbeat he realized just how scared he had been. He was clutching Sherlock’s shirt and crying into his shoulder. Sherlock had calmed down for the most part and have moved the best he could so comfort John. 

“Daddy, what’s wrong with Papa?” Rosie asked. 

“Nothing is wrong, Papa is just feeling a lot of emotions.” Sherlock said. 

“I’m going to get everything taken care of down here, then help you into your pants again.” Troye told Sherlock. “I’ll also get some prints for you guys.”

Sherlock nodded and kissed the side of John’s head. Rosie had gone back to putting her hand on Sherlock’s stomach and rambled away about how the baby needed to grow so they could play together. 

When they were all finished, Troye took them over to the couch to talk. Rosie sat on Sherlock’s lap, playing with his phone. John sat next to Sherlock, tucked under his arm, still crying silently. Sherlock ran his hand up and down John’s arm, trying to provide comfort for his husband. 

“So, your baby looks great.” Troye started. “I see nothing that would cause any worry. I am optimistic you will have a very safe pregnancy. Your baby’s heartbeat is strong, and the womb is in a perfect location. Sometimes with male pregnancies, there are complications because of the womb growing from the wrong spot and pushing on organs it shouldn’t or just not having enough protection. But yours is in the perfect spot. Even if you do experience complications, it is unlikely that you will miscarry.”

“That was a concern of ours.” Sherlock said. “Especially in our line of work.”

“Ah yes, after John called I checked out your blog.” Troye smiled. “Impressive work.”

“Will it harm the baby?” Sherlock asked, ignoring the compliment.

“As long as you don’t jump off buildings, get shot or stabbed anywhere vital, and stay away from dangerous chemicals… I think you should be good.” Troye told him. “But if something feels wrong, hurts, or you feel off don’t hesitate to call, text, come over, or call an ambulance.”

“Right.” Sherlock nodded. “By vital you mean?”

“A graze on the arm or nick on the leg shouldn’t put the baby in any harm. But I would avoid getting shot or stabbed in the chest, stomach, back, throat, head, and any major artery.” Troye told him. “Be cautious, accept help from others, and listen to your body.”

Sherlock nodded then looked to John. “Can we still… you know.” 

Troye smiled and looked at Rosie then at Sherlock. “Yes, that will not harm the baby, just make sure you are aware of your body and should something start hurting… try a different… approach.” 

“Alright.” Sherlock nodded. “About the birth… I do not like hospitals or care centers or doctors really.”

“I can coach you guys on how to deliver the baby and when the time comes if you want me in the room I can deliver it, or I can wait with Rosie while you guys do it alone. I understand your reservations about being around people while birthing, so anyway we can make it easier on you is what we will do. You may come here, or I can come to you.”

Sherlock nodded and looked away. “Good.” 

“Sherlock, I’m going to give you my number.” Troye told him. “You can text me any time with any question and I will help out. Don’t worry if it’s three in the morning, or if I’m on vacation, I am here for you.” 

“Thank you.” John said. 

“Yes, thank you.” Sherlock nodded. 

Sherlock scooped Rosie up so he was holding her more in a hugging fashion than on his hip and stood. 

“John will get your number.” Sherlock told him then started to walk out of the room. “John, don’t forget the prints.”

“Thank you again Troye.” John smiled as he shook the young doctor’s hand. “I know you don’t usually take on patients, but you seemed to be the best for the job.”

“Thank you, I am glad to be able to help you and your family.” Torye smiled as he handed a folder to John. “My number is on this paper, I have also included a prescription for some medication that will help Sherlock with the cramping and nausea, I have also prescribed some prenatal vitamins. If you or Sherlock have any questions, let me know. I would also like to see him in a few weeks, I like to monitor progress closely, especially with pregnancies like Sherlock’s. I want to be able to catch a shift in the womb, or something like that before it becomes serious or irreversible.”

“Thank you.” John said. 

“I also provided you with a couple contacts that would be a good alternative if you guys decide I am not the doctor for you, or if for some reason I am unavailable. Please do not hesitate to contact them if you want a second opinion or third.” Troye told him. “I often think second opinions are important. They are also the people I would consult if I was having an issue, or I found something that was out of my knowledge. So I suggest you check them out and familiarize yourselves with them… If you do in fact chose me.”

“Thank you…” John got a strange look on his face. 

“Oh, I am sorry Dr. Watson, I should have mentioned it sooner, but I assumed you’d know.” Troye sighed. “My intellect outweighs social skills quite a lot… my apologies. As a child, I was told I had Asperger's syndrome… I thought Tianna would have told you… or that you would have guessed.”

“Why would I have guessed?” John asked. 

“Your husband… I thought…” Troye stopped and looked to the window where he could see Sherlock swaying from one foot to the other as he rocked Rosie. “I assumed that Sherlock…”

“Oh.” John nodded. “Yes, sorry. I am just very used to Sherlock’s behavior, it is normal to me.”

“Right.” Troye nodded. “Well, if this information causes you two to change your minds, I understand. I will not be offended, and that is why I have given you a list of the brightest doctors in this field I know.” 

“Thank you.” John was unsure of what to say. “We will call to set up the next appointment.” 

Troye just nodded and watched as John walked out the door.

John was speechless when he came to stand next to Sherlock to wait for the cab. Sherlock had a smirk on his face as he hummed to Rosie. 

“I like him.” Sherlock said, not looking at John. “He’s smart, and I trust him. Rosie likes him too.”

“Then he is our doctor.” John smiled and rested his hand on Sherlock’s back. “He has Asperger's, did you know?” 

“I deduced.” Sherlock nodded. 

“He thinks we won’t want him as our doctor because of it.”

“He’s probably used to the rejection because of his diagnosis.” Sherlock said, then started to walk as the cab showed up. “Here we go.”

Once again John was speechless. Sherlock doesn't usually admit to something bluntly, he makes hits so people can arrive at their own conclusion. John had become accustomed to Sherlock and understood how he worked. He knew what their conversation had just been. Sherlock admitting he himself faced rejection, much like Troye has, because of his diagnosis.


	6. Uncle My-cof and Le-trod

“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” Rosie called as she ran through the flat looking for Sherlock. “Daddy!”

“Yes, Rosie.” Sherlock made quick work of putting his arm out and catching her before he went face first into the fireplace after tripping on John’s chair. 

“Be careful Rosie!” John snapped, his heart still racing. “Christ, Sherlock, good catch.”

“I agree.” Mycroft stated bringing both John and Sherlock’s attention to him. “Looks like your mysterious illness hasn’t made you slow.”

“Daddy, Uncle My-cof is here.” Rosie told Sherlock as she pointed to Mycroft. 

“I see.” Sherlock nodded. 

“Rosie, why don’t you go play in your room?” John said. “I’ll come get you before Mycroft leaves.”

“Okay Papa.” Rosie nodded and raced to her room when Sherlock put her down. 

“How did you know?” Sherlock asked, his voice cold and steady. 

“Greg was worried.” Mycroft said. “He said you wouldn’t help on a case.”

“I was ill.” Sherlock said. “If you speak to him again tell him I am no longer confined to my sick bed.”

“Oh, you are well again?” Mycroft raised an eyebrow.

“Do I look ill?” 

“Brother mine, you never look as ill as you are.” Mycroft sighed. “Did you make a list?”

Sherlock shook his head and scoffed. “There is no list.”

“You made a promise.” Mycroft’s voice was softer than John was accustomed to. 

“I was not high, or going through withdrawal, I was ill.” Sherlock said as he moved to pick up his violin. “The good doctor can attest to this.”

“He’s telling the truth.” John said. “Rosie came down the flu and quickly gave it to Sherlock.” 

“And you were fine the whole time?” Mycroft looked somewhat irritated. 

“I get regular flu shots, and I am a doctor.” John said. “I’m not as susceptible as a five-year-old and someone who was a drug user and who doesn’t sleep.”

Mycroft looked to Sherlock as he played, his back turned to Mycroft. 

“Greg thought it was serious.” Mycroft said to the back of Sherlock’s head. 

If John didn’t know Mycroft he would think the man was worried, or concerned. John knew Sherlock’s relationship was already rocky when it came to Mycroft, but now that Sherlock was working on showing his emotions, and having feelings, their relationship was even worse. 

“Why “Greg” you seem… familiar with the name.” Sherlock turned to look at Mycroft. “And why would he have told you? You two don’t talk… the only connection you have is through me… unless.” 

Sherlock gasped at turned to John. 

“What?” John asked obviously not seeing the big deal. 

“How could we have not seen this?” Sherlock nearly yelled. “How long?”

“How long what?” John asked. 

“How long has Mycroft been sleeping with Lestrade?” Sherlock turned back to his brother and smirked. “I knew there was a change in you, but I had assumed you were just keeping a closer eye on me after Mary… Of course, of course, how could I have been so blind? Since their wedding right? I was a bit preoccupied at the time, being the best man and secret boyfriend and all. Oh and then Rosie- and then Mary- and all this time I assumed you were just trying to be a big brother… well this is certainly more interesting. How long before their wedding? Did it start after my “death” or was it before then? No, you were forced to face your feelings after I jumped… you turned to Lestrade. You knew I worked close with him so you turned to him. You couldn’t have gone to John, he was grieving too much and probably would have blamed you, and Mrs. Hudson would make you uncomfortable, too much like mum… Ah but Lestrade, we worked together longer than John and I knew each other. He would be grieving…. But he would be as bad off as John, and he is nothing like mum. So it had to be. How long before you slept with him? Do you guys go on dates? Are you domestic? Mycroft, you have been a naughty boy, wait till mum hears about this! I-” 

“Sherlock!” John yelled finally cutting off his stream of consciousness.

“You’ve been slow brother.” Mycroft smirked. “But I admit, I am farther behind in the relationship, emotions, feelings, and people area. You, brother mine, have let many people into your life, and have chosen to love them. I have only two.”

“Two?” Sherlock repeated getting rather excited. “Lestrade, and someone else? Is it someone I know?” 

“Yes.” Mycroft nodded then looked dead in Sherlock's eyes. “It’s you, little brother.”

Sherlock stopped moving completely. John feared he had stopped breathing all together but he saw the shutter of his chest as he let out ragged breaths. Sherlock’s hand moved from his side to his stomach as he watched Mycroft. Sherlock was obviously thinking faster and harder than he had to deduce Mycroft was sleeping with Lestrade, he was also Shocked, and most likely trying to hold back the rush of emotions he felt. In his fragile emotional state because of his hormones running wild John feared he would break down right there. He could see the tears welling in Sherlock’s glassy eyes as he stared at his brother. Sherlock loved his brother so much more than John would have thought by their interactions. If Sherlock hadn’t of told John how much he admired, idolized, and loved his big brother, John probably still wouldn’t have seen it. Sherlock always thought Mycroft would never return the feeling of brotherly love even as a kid Sherlock knew he loved Mycroft and Mycroft tolerated him. 

“Sherlock breathe.” John said as he stood next to Sherlock. “Take a breath.”

Sherlock did as he was told, but when he breathed out it was more of a sob. He quickly turned and hid his face in the crook of John’s neck. Sherlock’s body shook as he let out sobs. John hushed him and tried to calm him down but there was no use. If Mycroft would have told him this while he wasn’t pregnant Sherlock would probably have reacted the same way, just not in front of Mycroft. 

Mycroft moved closer and nodded to John before Sherlock was passed from John’s embrace to Mycroft’s. Sherlock let out another sob as he clung to Mycroft. Mycroft simply held him tight, and ran his fingers through Sherlock’s hair. 

“Hush little brother.” Mycroft whispered. “You’re alright.” 

“Papa?” Rosie asked quietly as she wandered into the room. “Why is Daddy crying? Is it the ho-ramoneses again?” 

“Partly.” John whispered as he picked his daughter up. “Uncle Mycroft told Daddy something he’s been wanting to hear for a long time.”

“Is he sad?” Rosie asked. 

“No baby, he’s happy and probably relieved.” John said. 

“So it’s like when you were crying at Troye’s?” Rosie asked. 

John nodded and hugged her. He was enjoying watching the moment between the two brothers. He had been so sad for Sherlock. Every time he and Mycroft spent time together, Sherlock would spend the night crying into John’s chest. Sherlock couldn’t understand what he had done to make Mycroft hate him, he tried to think back to when they were kids, but a lot of Sherlock’s memories were fussy and half of them he felt were untrue. Then he found out most of them were untrue and tried not to think of his childhood at all. 

“Calm down, Sherlock, take deep breaths.” Mycroft whispered to his brother. “You shouldn't get so worked up… in your condition.” 

“You know?” Sherlock’s words were muffled by Mycroft’s shirt and his own sobs. 

“Just figured it out.” Mycroft told him. “Rosie wanted to know if it was the hormones making you cry.”

Mycroft couldn’t quite understand Sherlock’s mumbling until the end when he pulled away from Mycroft enough to wipe his face and say, “... a baby.” 

“Yes, you’re having a baby.” Mycroft smiled, trying to get Sherlock to look into his eyes. “Congratulations.” 

“Thank you.” Sherlock nodded, then pushed himself against Mycroft’s chest again, not ready to end the hug. 

“You’re deduction was correct, by the way.” Mycroft told him after wrapping his arms around his brother again. “Greg and I have been seeing each other for some time now.”

“Good.” 

“Good?” Mycroft grabbed Sherlock’s arms so he could momentarily look him in the eyes. “Good?”

“Yes.” Sherlock nodded. “He has a lot of feelings, and he’s lonely. You two are good for each other. He helps you with feelings, and you help him not be lonely.”

“Sometimes your mind is as innocent as when we were kids.” Mycroft said. “That’s good.” 

“Rosie and I are going to get dinner.” John announced after clearing his throat. “Sherlock do you want anything?”

“Chips.” Sherlock mumbled into Mycroft’s shirt. 

“Mycroft, you’re staying for dinner.” John left no room for argument. 

Mycroft just nodded and went back to comforting his brother. 

John had decided he was going to invite Lestrade over so they could all have dinner together. He liked the idea of Mycroft and Lestrade together. They fit. And they both cared for Sherlock. Lestrade was already part of their family. He took care of Rosie, and he took care of Sherlock. Lestrade had even taken care of John after Sherlock “died” and was apparently also taking care of Mycroft. 

Before dinner John and Sherlock agreed that it was probably best if they told Lestrade about the baby. Mycroft could keep a secret and was willing to for Sherlock, but it was unfair to ask him to do that, or make Lestrade worry for no reason. But that didn’t mean they weren’t going to make him sweat before they told them. 

“Rosie, when Lestrade gets here we are going to play a trick on him.” John told her. “Like a prank.”

“What’s it be?” She asked, her eyes wide with excitement.

“We’re gonna make him guess that Daddy has a baby in his belly.” John told her. 

“Oooo!” Rosie squealed with delight. 

“Now Rosie, he may come to the conclusion that Daddy is really sick.” Sherlock told her, not wanting her to freak out. “I’m not. I promise you. Lestrade may just think I am sick.”

“He may even question if Sherlock is going to die.” Mycroft smirked. 

“But I’m not.” Sherlock told Rosie while glaring at Mycroft. “I am healthy, the baby is healthy, and I am not sick.”

“Okay.” Rosie nodded. “I understand.”

John watched as Sherlock swayed as a bit on his feet. He had hoped no one noticed, but he was sure John did, Sherlock did make it rather obvious by the way he grabbed John’s arm to steady himself. 

“Rosie, why don’t you take Daddy into the other room.” John told her.

“Okay.” Rosie smiled as she grabbed Sherlock’s hand. “Come on Daddy.” 

Sherlock followed her into the living room and sat on the sofa. She smiled and ran to get her crayons and some paper. The two sat on the sofa, using the coffee table so they could colour. 

Lestrade walked in and chuckled when he found Sherlock and Rosie discussing the anatomy diagram Sherlock had drawn in crayon. Rosie was asking questions and pointing to things when Sherlock would ask a question. 

“Having fun there Rosie?” Lestrade asked. 

“Yeah! Daddy teaches me how atomony works!” Rosie said happily. 

“Is teaching, and anatomy.” Sherlock provided. 

“Oh. Daddy is teaching me how at-anom-anamony works.” Rosie looked to Sherlock and sighed. “I can’t say that word.”

“An-at-omy.” Sherlock said slowly.

“An… at… omy.” Rosie tried again. 

“Good, now put them together.” Sherlock smiled. 

“Anat-omy.” Rosie said, breaking the word up a little but getting it pretty much right. 

“Good job.” Sherlock told her. 

“Wow Rosie, you’re smarter than me.” Lestrade told her. 

“I know.” Rosie said as she ran past him into the kitchen. “Uncle My-cof! Uncle Le-trod is here!”

“She really is your kid.” Lestrade scoffed as he looked to Sherlock. “How’re you feeling.” 

“Better.” Sherlock nodded. “Got a bit dizzy earlier, so John banished me to the sofa.” 

“Dizzy?” 

“Side effect or symptom… not sure which.” Sherlock shrugged. “John’s worried I overdid it today.”

“Well you did have a breakdown in my arms, bother mine.” Mycroft said as he walked into the room, Rosie secured on his hip. 

“What?” Lestrade looked to Sherlock with wide eyes. 

“Daddy was crying.” Rosie said. “He couldn’t breathe.”

“No Rosie, I forgot to breathe, there is a difference.” Sherlock said. “I was holding my breath in a way.”

“Oh.” Rosie nodded. “Why do?”

“He has done it from a young age Rosie.” Mycroft explained to the young girl he was holding. “If he was in shock, overwhelmed, or overstimulated he would hold his breath. He passed out a couple time when he was your age because of it.”

“Because his brain?” Rosie asked. “Too much?”

“Yes, that is correct.” Mycroft nodded. “Sherlock’s brain doesn’t know what to shut off and things get too much for him.”

“Give me my daughter.” Sherlock glared at Mycroft, but there was no heat behind it. “She doesn’t need you telling stories about me.”

Mycroft moved to hand Rosie to Sherlock but paused when he saw the way Sherlock had twisted. 

“Be careful, you’ll hurt yourself turning like that.” Mycroft said and waited for Sherlock to move his whole body so he could set Rosie down on Sherlock’s lap. 

“Not you too.” Sherlock sighed. “I don’t need two of you telling me I shouldn’t hold Rosie.”

“With John being the worried husband he is I am surprised he’s letting you out of bed, let alone out of the flat.” Mycroft smirked. “But you do know your body’s limits.”

“I’m sorry what?” Lestrade asked sounding irritated and worried. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Daddy’s been sick.” Rosie told Lestrade as she cuddled into Sherlock’s chest. “Daddy get hurt.”

“No, I’m not hurt Rosie, I’m just sore.” Sherlock sighed. “Your Papa and Uncle are too worried for their own good. Don’t worry about what they say, you won’t hurt me. Remember what Dr. Troye said?”

“It okay to hold me.” Rosie nodded. 

“Yes.” Sherlock told her then whispered in her ear. “I will always hold you, no matter how old or big you are.”

Rosie’s smile brightened and she squealed happily before hugging Sherlock tighter. She was a cuddly child, always wanting to be held, cuddled, or hugged by her fathers. When she first started to climb into Sherlock’s lap as a young child, or ask for him to pick her up, John had been worried Sherlock would reject her, or that she was bugging Sherlock. But John quickly realized just how cuddly Sherlock was too. After that he never worried about Rosie bugging Sherlock. It made John extremely happy when he noticed Sherlock would sometimes walk past Rosie and scoop her up into a hug and waltz her around the flat as he hummed to her. Rosie would always giggle and hug him tightly as he danced with her. 

“Shall we eat?” John asked as he walked into the room. 

“Daddy, take your med-y-sin.” Rosie told Sherlock as she hopped down from his lap and ran after John. 

“Medicine?” Lestrade asked. 

“For my stomach.” Sherlock nodded then walked out of the room to take his medicine. 

During dinner Lestrade watched Sherlock. Sherlock didn’t look too sick. Sure he was pale, and a little thinner than he usually was, and his eyes had dark bags underneath, but he had seen Sherlock in worse shape before. The first thing that came to his mind was drugs, but he wouldn’t do that with Rosie around… would he?

“I’m not high.” Sherlock growled.

“Sorry.” Lestrade nodded. 

“So, you and Mycroft.” John said breaking the silence.

“Ummm… yes.” Lestrade was taken back. 

“Relax, Sherlock figured it out.” Mycroft told Lestrade. “It’s alright.”

“Oh.” 

“It’s good.” Sherlock said looking to Lestrade. “You and my brother, it’s good.”

“Thank you.” Lestrade didn’t really know what to say, he hadn’t expected Sherlock to be okay with it. 

“So you’ll be joining us at the Holmes’ for Christmas then.” John said. 

“What?” Lestrade asked then looked to Mycroft. 

“Sherlock and John are going to my parents’ house for Christmas.” Mycroft explained. “I would also like to go, but you are in no way obligated.”

“Yes he is.” Sherlock said, his voice a bit harsher than he meant. “He is your boyfriend, my friend, and the uncle of my children.”

“Of course I’ll come.” Lestrade said. “Wait did you say “Children” as in plural? Not just Rosie?”

Sherlock looked to John who nodded and smiled. 

“I am pregnant Greg.” Sherlock smiled. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“Pregnant?” Lestrade asked, a bit shocked. “As in, there is a baby growing inside you?”

“Yes.” Sherlock replied. 

“Oh my god! That’s amazing!” Lestrade was out of his seat and around the table in a second. 

He pulled Sherlock up and hugged him tightly. It was something Sherlock wasn’t used to from the Inspector, but it was very welcomed. Sherlock returned the hug and took in the warmth his friend was providing for him.

“Are you crying?” Sherlock asked when they pulled apart.

“I’m happy for you.” Lestrade nodded. “Can’t I be happy for my friend?”

“You were worried.” Sherlock said. “You thought I was dying… Why? Oh… you thought I had cancer. The symptoms you knew of pointed to stomach cancer, that’s why Mycroft came here, and why you are crying now. You are relieved I’m not dying.”

“Yes Sherlock! I bloody ecstatic you are not dying!” Lestrade said and pulled him into another hug. “I am also so happy you are having a child.”

“Thank you.” Sherlock said somewhat unsure. “I am happy you are dating my brother. You make him human, and he makes you less lonely.”

“Sherlock.” Mycroft scolded. 

“No he’s right.” Lestrade nodded finally went back to his chair. “I was very lonely.”

“I know.” Mycroft sighed.

“How far along are you?” Lestrade asked. 

“Seven weeks?” Sherlock turned to look at John. 

“I’d say seven or eight weeks.” John nodded. “We went to the Doctor a little over a week ago and he said around six or seven.”

“Wow.” Lestrade smiled. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m sore, nauseated, craving chips and ice cream all the time.” Sherlock told him. “But I’m happy.”

“And how do you feel about this Rosie?” Lestrade asked. 

“I’m going to be a big sister!” Rosie cheered. “And Daddy says the baby will love me like he loves Uncle My-cof! Because Uncle My-cof is Daddy big brother and babies love their big sib-ings!” 

“Oh.” Mycroft looked to Sherlock and smiled. “He’s right Rosie, but did your Daddy tell you big siblings love their baby siblings so much? And they take care of their baby siblings because they love them?”

“Really?” Rosie asked with wide eyes. 

“Yes.” Mycroft said without breaking eye contact with Sherlock.


	7. Halloween!

“Daddy! It’s Halloween!” Rosie yelled as she burst into John and Sherlock’s bedroom. “Papa! Halloween!” 

“I know Rosie.” John spoke in hushed excitement. “Let’s go downstairs and make sure all the decorations are ready for tonight.” 

“Where Daddy?” Rosie asked when she saw Sherlock was not in the bed. 

“Daddy is in the bathroom.” John told her. “He’s not feeling very well this morning.” 

“Is it the baby?” Rosie asked. 

“Yeah, the baby is making Daddy sick.” John sighed. “But he’s okay, don’t worry.” 

“... is party still gonna happened?” Rosie asked quietly.

“Yeah, of course.” John told her. “Daddy will be better for the party, and if he starts feeling bad again he will just go lay down. You still get your party.” 

“But… Daddy don’t feel good.”

“I’m fine Rosie.” Sherlock said as he came out of the bathroom. “Just an upset tummy.” 

“Oh… so party is okay?” 

“More than okay.” Sherlock smiled. “I want to party too.” 

“Oh… okay.” Rosie smiled then skipped out of the room. 

As soon as Rosie was gone, Sherlock groaned and laid down in the bed. John walked over to him and put his hand on Sherlock’s shoulder. 

“You okay, Love?” John whispered. 

Sherlock groaned again. 

“How bad does it hurt?” John asked. 

“Not as bad as last night.” Sherlock sighed. “More nauseous than in pain.” 

“Will you be alright by yourself while I entertain Rosie?” John asked. 

Sherlock nodded. “I’m going to take a nap… either here or on the floor near the toilet.” 

“Call me if you need anything.” John told him as he kissed Sherlock’s temple. “Or if the pain gets worse.” 

“Will you bring me some water?” Sherlock asked as John walked away from the bed. 

“Sure.” John nodded and went to get Sherlock’s water. 

John made quick work of getting Sherlock some water and a damp washcloth. Once he gave Sherlock the water and made sure he was comfortable, John went to make sure Rosie wasn’t destroying the house. 

Rosie and John finished decorating for Rosie’s Halloween party. Then John went with Rosie to her room so she could try her costume on again. He slipped away for a moment while Rosie was looking for some shoes that would match her outfit, and checked on Sherlock. 

Sherlock was laying on the floor in front of the toilet, his breath was faster and heavier than usual, small whimpers escaped broke John’s heart as he knelt next to his husband. 

“Sherl… how much does it hurt?” John whispered. 

Sherlock was quiet for a while then groaned out, “A lot.” 

“Do you want me to call Troye?” John asked. “Or the Hospital?”

“No.” Sherlock shook his head. “Just…”

John waited a moment or Sherlock to continue, but when he didn’t John put his hand on Sherlock’s shoulder. 

“What do you need love?” 

“Take Rosie down stairs and have her make some treats with Mrs. Hudson.” Sherlock said. “Please.”

“Yeah, alright… I’ll be right back.” John told him. “Just… just breathe, okay?”

John quickly gathered up Rosie and took her to Mrs. Hudson who was ready to help her make the treats and food for the party. Once Rosie was settled John ran back upstairs to Sherlock.

“John.” Sherlock groaned when John knelt next to him. 

“Hi love, I’m here.” John whispered back. “What can I do? How can I help?”

“Bed.” 

“Alright,” John nodded. “Let’s get you to the bed.”

John helped Sherlock stand and lead him to the bedroom. Sherlock was shaking and sweating and softly crying the whole way to the bed. When he finally laid down, Sherlock pulled John’s hand closer to him, asking John to lay down and hold him without actually saying the words. John understood the unspoken request and climbed into the bed with Sherlock. He wrapped his arms around Sherlock and started to message Sherlock’s aching stomach. 

“Is this a bump?” John whispered into Sherlock’s curls when his fingers felt a small curve at the bottom of Sherlock’s stomach. 

“Troye says it's probably just bloat right now.” Sherlock sighed, already becoming more relaxed. “I should start showing in a few weeks.”

“Mmm… I can’t wait.” John smiled. 

They were quiet for a moment, both enjoying feeling the other pressed against them. Thoughts of the baby running through their heads. 

“John… Will you call Troye?” Sherlock broke their comfortable silence with a whisper. 

John sat up immediately, eyes searching Sherlock for signs of more discomfort, blood, or anything else that would cause worry. 

“What’s wrong?” John asked as he grabbed his phone.

“I don’t want to ruin Rosie’s party.” Sherlock said. “Troye said there was a medicine that would help with the pain… I turned him down because of my… history… but John, it really hurts.” 

“Oh, Sherlock.” Tears pricked John’s eyes as he listened to the reason why Sherlock was putting himself through so much pain. “Taking medicine to help with this pain is not going to be like getting high.”

“I know… I just… I worked very hard to get clean, and stay clean… I don’t want to slip… especially now.” Sherlock was close to sobbing as he spoke to John. 

“You won’t.” John told him. “Now, I’m going to call Troye, and we are going to get you feeling so much better.” 

Sherlock nodded and wiped the tear tracks from his face. Sherlock listened as John spoke to Troye over the phone. It was a civil and friendly conversation and it made Sherlock glad they chose Troye to be the doctor. 

Troye didn’t take many patients, and at the moment John and Sherlock were his only patients. At their last check up he had told them that he is more of a researcher than a doctor. For a moment after Troye had admitted he doesn’t see patients often, John worried Sherlock wouldn’t want Troye to be their doctor anymore. John shouldn’t have been surprised when Sherlock simply nodded and said “good”. Later, John would find out Sherlock was pleased that Troye was a researcher because that meant he had more knowledge. Rosie had made the whole situation so much better by adding “knowledge is the important thing.” 

At some point during John’s phone call with Troye, Sherlock fell asleep. When he woke up, John was in the room, but no longer in bed. He was taking off his coat when he noticed Sherlock was awake. 

“Sherlock, hey, I was going to let you sleep for a while.” John said. “I ran to the pharmacy and got the prescription Troye wrote you. Would you like some now?”

Sherlock nodded.

“Papa, is Daddy feeling better?” Rosie quietly asked from the doorway to their room. 

“I’m alright Rosie.” Sherlock called to her. “Do you want to come over here and see for yourself?” 

Rosie didn’t make a sound as she slowly walked over to Sherlock’s side of the bed. Her eyes were big as she looked Sherlock over. Sherlock could tell she was thinking, even at such a young age Rosie had the same facial expressions Mary did. When Rosie was deep in thought and trying to figure something out she looked exactly like Mary. 

Sherlock heard a small gasp from John. He knew John could see it too. It was hard to miss how much she looked like Mary right then. Same eyes, same facial expression, her eyes even moved the same way as if a scanner had been placed behind her eyes and if she looked hard enough she could figure out every lie and every half-truth being told. Rosamund Mary Watson-Holmes… her middle name suits her. 

“You better?” Rosie asked. 

“I am feeling much better.” Sherlock nodded. 

“I just got him some medicine that will make his tummy hurt less.” John told Rosie.

“Daddy… can I nap with you?” Rosie asked shyly. 

“Of course you can.” Sherlock nodded and reached over to scoop her up. 

Before Sherlock could lift her, John scooped her off the ground and placed her on the bed next to Sherlock. Sherlock glared at his husband but was grateful for the assistance. If he was being honest, he still wasn’t feeling great. 

“Daddy, will you tell me a story?” Rosie asked. 

“What story would you like to hear?” 

“The Spy.” Rosie smiled as she snuggled into Sherlock’s chest. 

“Okay… there once was a woman, with a mind so brilliant and powerful she could out think anyone, even a computer…”

John smiled when he heard Sherlock start to tell the story, but he had to leave. It was still too painful to hear the story of Mary being a spy, even if Sherlock made it child friendly and made it so Mary was the good guy and had a happy ending… John knew the real story… and the real story was too painful. 

After their nap, Sherlock and Rosie went downstairs to make sure everything was ready for the party. John and Sherlock assisted Rosie in setting up the rest of the decorations and getting everything perfect. Once everything was ready, and it was close enough to the time of the party, they all went to put their costumes on.

Rosie decided they were all going to go as spies, but not like the spies dressed in all black with black facemasks. No. They were going on Bond spies. Rosie had a tiny black suit and a cane. John slicked back his hair and wore a suit with a white coat. Sherlock wore a black suit and carried a fake gun. 

Rosie was excited. Not only was her Uncle Mycroft and Lestrade coming to her party, but so was some of her friends from school. When John and Sherlock told her she could invite some friends she freaked out. Rosie wanted everything to be perfect and John and Sherlock wanted her night to be perfect.

Mrs. Hudson was the first to get there, she was wearing a red dress and had a hat on to go with the Bond theme. She had brought the rest of the food and treats with her. Rosie had spent a long time with Mrs. Hudson planning the food and figuring what treats should be displayed and what snacks they should serve. 

Not long after Mrs. Hudson arrived, Mycroft and Lestrade showed up. Mycroft was not wearing a costume, he was simply in his usual suit, but he did go as far as to add an eye patch. Lestrade on the other hand had dressed up like a cartoon bank robber, he was even carrying a bag with an American dollar sign on it. 

“Uncle Le-trod you catch the bad guys… not be the bad guy.” Rosie told him when she saw what he was wearing. 

“I know Rosie, but it’s Halloween. So today I am the robber.” 

“Okay… but what if there is a real bank robbery and everyone thinks you done it?” Rosie asked. 

“Did.” Sherlock told her. 

“What if there is a real bank robbery and everyone thinks you did it?” Rosie corrected herself. 

“I’ll show them my badge and tell them it wasn’t me.” Lestrade told her. “I might even be undercover.”

Rosie gasped and looked around. “Robbers here?” 

“No, I just came from work silly.” Lestrade told her. “I was undercover there.” 

“Oh, that make sense.” Rosie nodded. 

Pretty soon all of Rosie’s little friends were there, and with them came their parents. Rosie’s friends were great, she had excellent taste in friendships, but their parents were not always the best. Sherlock didn’t like many of the parents at Rosie’s school. Most of them loved to gossip and he and John were often the topic of the gossip. Sherlock let John do most of the talking to the parents and took a step back when it came to dealing with the other children… he had learn when Rosie first started going to that school that the other parents didn’t like Sherlock, and they didn’t trust him around their children. So Sherlock stood with Mycroft and watched. 

“You should sit down, brother mine.” Mycroft said suddenly. “You’d be more comfortable.”

“I am fine right here.” Sherlock told him. “Nice eyepatch by the way.”

“I never really understood your fascination with pirates…” Mycroft sighed.

Their short conversation ended after that. They stood and watched John and Lestrade entertaining the children. The children were giggling and call to their own parents to join in. 

When the children went into the kitchen to decorate cookies, Sherlock sat in his chair and relaxed for a moment. Not long after he had sat down, Rosie walked out of the kitchen and climbed onto Sherlock’s lap. Rosie laid her head on Sherlock’s chest, snuggled close to him, and closed her eyes. 

“Someone got tired.” John whispered when he came out to find Rosie. 

“She was busy planning this party and was too excited to really sleep.” Sherlock replied. 

“Well, a lot of the other children are also tired, and so are their parents.” John said. “I think the party is over.”

Sherlock nodded but didn’t stop running his fingers through Rosie’s hair. 

Rosie talked about the party for weeks after. All her friends had so much fun, the other mums who had blogs about baking and crafts thought the decorations were incredible and the food was delicious and cute, and Rosie loved having her uncles there. 

Halloween brought the end of October and the end of Sherlock’s first trimester. Sherlock was still sick, still in pain, and still not showing, but he was healthy and so was the baby. Troye told them that Sherlock would probably start showing around week seventeen, but John couldn’t wait. 

The end of October also brought the start of November, which meant it was almost Christmas. 

The sun was setting as John walked into 221B, shopping bags hanging from his arms. A yawn escaped his mouth as he climbed the stairs. It had been a long day… actually a long week. They were planning for Christmas. John had been trying to find the perfect gifts for everyone. So far he had gotten Rosie a couple chapter books, comic books, and coloring books, and Mrs. Holmes and Mrs. Hudson each a new cookbook that had experimental recipes. But that was it, and he was started to stress about finding a gift for Sherlock, Mr. Holmes, Mycroft, and Lestrade. 

As John reaches the top of the stairs he could hear noise coming from the flat. He could tell most of the noise was coming from his daughter. 

“DO YOU HEAR PEOPLE SING! SINGIN’ SONG ANGRY MAN!” Rosie screamed/sang at the top of her lungs. 

“It’s the music of the people who will not be slaves again!” Sherlock’s beautiful voice sang out after Rosie’s. 

“WHEN BEATING OF DRUMS IS THE BEATING OF THE DRUMS!” Rosie followed, making John chuckle when he heard the missed lyrics. 

“There is a life about to start when tomorrow comes!” Sherlock continued. 

John finally found the two in the living room. Rosie was standing on Sherlock’s chair waving a homemade red flag, and Sherlock was standing next to her playing his violin. 

“WILL YOU GIVE ALL- Papa!” Rosie stopped singing and jumped down from the chair so she could run to John and jump into his arms. “Vive la révolution, Papa!” 

“Vive la France!” Sherlock called after her. 

“So… Les Mis?” John raises an eyebrow at Sherlock. 

“We were bored.” Rosie replied. “Daddy can plays all the songs!” 

“I know. Your Daddy is very talented with his violin.” John agreed. 

“He sing too.” Rosie smiled. “And and and he speak French.” 

“Oui.” John smirked. 

Rosie gasped then turned to Sherlock. “Daddy, Papa knows French too.” 

“Just a little.” John told her. 

“I wanna learn.” Rosie said. “Can you teach me to talk French, Daddy?” 

“Of course.” Sherlock agreed. 

The rest of the night Sherlock sat in his chair with Rosie in his lap teaching her French. John watched, took some pictures, made dinner and tea, and he secretly took some videos as well. Sherlock promised Rosie he would teach her to read and write in French also. Rosie also requested he tell her a bedtime story in French that night. 

During dinner, Rose asked what everything on her plate was called in French. She would point to her potatoes and Sherlock would reply with “pommes de terrer”, and Rosie would them try and copy what he said. 

John enjoined dinner. Even if there wasn’t much conversation, and he didn’t get to ask Sherlock about what they should get his father or brother, John wouldn’t have interrupted Rosie and Sherlock for anything. 

A week later Rosie was starting to say full sentences in French. John and Sherlock stayed up one night and ordered all of Rosie’s favorite books in French, along with some new ones they thought she would like. They had also picked out some stuff for the baby, and put those items in a separate shopping list so they could purchase them later.

Sherlock and John were laying in bed on a cold November night. Rosie has just gone to bed, and Sherlock had been complaining of being too cold, so John wrapped him up in a blanket and then wrapped himself around Sherlock. 

“Do you think my parents will be happy?” Sherlock asked suddenly.

“I think your parents are going to be so happy, and so excited.” John told him. “Why wouldn’t they be?” 

Sherlock shrugged them nuzzled his face into John’s neck. “Just anxious.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait.


End file.
